Crosshairs
by ALEO
Summary: One year on and Brad has not forgotten the agent he blames for putting his father in prison. When their paths cross he takes advantage of the opportunity. Sequel to ‘Flight’ - see author's note inside. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Numb3rs: Crosshairs**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_**A/N:** If you haven't read 'Flight' don't worry, there should be enough background information where needed to get you through. Let the games commence -_

**CHAPTER ONE**

-100-1111-1110-

With a sudden flare of frustrated anger he snatched his card back. Damned ATM was on the fritz. Special Agent Don Eppes of the Los Angeles FBI eyed the glass doors off to his right with distaste. He'd been in enough banks over the last couple of weeks investigating the series of robberies that one more was one too many. He sighed and headed for the doors anyway. His informant would only take cash, not credit. The incongruous thought made him smile, in all probability if technology continued the way it was the day would soon come when informants did in fact take credit.

The smile quickly faded however, the robberies had been getting more violent and were spaced closer and closer together as time went on. They'd started just five weeks ago, the first a bank in San Francisco. A week later a second bank in the same city then a few days later the first of six in Los Angeles. Subsequently the investigation had landed on his desk just after the second LA robbery three weeks ago with a further four robberies since. His team were becoming increasingly frustrated, despite the mountains of evidence, statements and bullet casings they were no closer to identifying or apprehending the offenders.

What they did know for certain was that all the robberies were committed by the same group. Other similar robberies had occurred within the same time frame but this set was linked together by the specific style of the robberies and more strongly, the weapons used by the offenders. Kalashnikovs. A little unusual these days, most robbers used sawn-off shotguns or handguns as they were easier to conceal and the automatic rifles were significantly harder to come by.

The media of course had pounced on the distinction and had dubbed the gang 'The AK-47s'. The FBI and LAPD media sections were working furiously to prevent the AK-47s from becoming some sort of folk heroes due to the publicity. Don figured that for an uphill battle, any group waving around heavy weaponry and getting away with significant sums of money were sure to be celebrated by the less law abiding parts of the community.

The tinted glass doors swung open under his hand. Not for the first time Don wished that banks would do away with the heavy tint that many of them employed on their predominantly glass frontages. It was next to impossible for someone outside to see in, particularly as now when the morning sunlight was reflecting directly off the gold tint. Although it was probably very effective from an air-conditioning point of view, as a LEO he had to rate that as less important than basic security.

He stepped inside, automatically scanning the interior for trouble. Normal for him when entering a bank, but now it was a conscious thing since running this investigation. Unfortunately he looked left first, they were on the right.

"Take him, he's FBI!"

"Wha-?" Don barely had a chance to process the words before all thought and movement on his part stopped suddenly. He had automatically turned towards the voice and instantly froze. The barrels of two Kalashnikovs tend to do that, especially if you are the one on the business end. One was far too close, mere feet from his chest, the other rapidly approaching in the hands of a second man.

In the deep silence that followed he heard the door swing gently shut behind him. A phrase from a half remembered movie entered his mind – '_the AK-47… when you absolutely, positively got to kill every #&$! in the room'_. In any situation out of a war zone the AK-47, also known as the Kalashnikov was just plain excessive. There was no arguing with such a weapon, let alone two, without some serious armour and firepower of your own. A business shirt and a Glock 22 still in the holster was no match. Not even close.

The second man stepped up and now there were two barrels hovering at arm's length from his chest. Disturbingly he noted that both men had a second magazine taped inverted and slightly offset to the one already mounted into their weapons. It seemed they were of the opinion that the thirty rounds held per individual magazine were insufficient to their needs, preferring instead to have sixty immediately available.

Without prompting Don slowly raised his arms and clasped his hands behind his head. The three men regarded each other silently for a moment before the first one stepped past and behind the agent. He heard the door latch. From the looks of things the robbery had only just started, the front door only now being secured. The AK-47s usual MO had them entering from the rear or side, working rapidly towards the front to lock down the banks. Given the weapons pointed at him and the clothing the men were wearing he was safe in his identification of whom he was facing.

The remaining man gestured sharply with the rifle and Don slowly moved deeper into the bank towards the few customers amongst the bank staff lying on the floor, covered by a third man. It was still early and the bank had only been open for a few minutes, another factor in the offenders' usual MO. The fourth man who had been climbing over the counter stopped to watch the newcomer. As Don was instructed to halt the fourth man reversed his course to approach the agent.

As with the other robbers the fourth man was wearing black jeans and jacket along with black leather gloves and a black ski-mask. The only skin showing was a little around the edges of the eyes. Even that glimpse was partially hidden behind close fitting, pale yellow shooting glasses. All were too familiar to the agent after watching and re-watching bank surveillance footage of the previous robberies. Now he was getting the privilege of watching the action from up close, an excellent opportunity to observe how the gang operated. He could think of places he would rather be.

"Down on your knees, Fed." Robber Four ordered.

With no advantage to be had by hesitating the agent silently did as instructed, keeping his hands firmly and non-threateningly clasped behind his head. Robber Two's rifle barrel settled on a spot to the right of his spine just below his shoulder. Working at keeping his breathing steady and even Don held still as Four carefully bent and removed his useless Glock.

Four moved back, tucking the weapon into his belt. "You got any other guns?"

"No." He felt a foot moving over his lower legs, Two was checking for ankle holsters.

"Clean." Two reported. The man's younger voice then took on an excited note. "You know what this means?"

"It means we need to talk." Four answered.

Don frowned. The turn of phrase in combination with the voice was suddenly familiar.

"Fed, if you so much as twitch you're dead." Two growled, punctuating his point with a painfully hard shove of the rifle barrel. "Understand?"

"Understood."

As the two men moved a short distance away, Don tried to place Four's voice. He'd heard the man say exactly those same words 'we need to talk' somewhere else. The problem was it was some time ago and enlightenment refused to come. He needed more information to make the connection. For the moment though there was no way to get more than whatever he could overhear or see. Both the timing and his position, Two's rifle was still pointed firmly his way, were hardly conducive to any form of interrogation by him.

Two and Four were standing just far enough away that their low tones were almost indistinguishable as words with only the odd phrase getting through. Don could just glean enough to confirm that his arrival had suddenly changed things. There was also the fact that the two robbers had seemed to know exactly who he was the moment he'd walked in the door, long before they could possibly have seen the badge on his belt partially hidden under his suit jacket. It was recognition of him personally, not just that he was a federal agent. This meant that he had to know them, definitely Four and he figured, probably Two. He concentrated, replaying the phrase over and over in his head but still no identification came to mind.

He looked around, skipping briefly over the other hostages to assure himself that there were no injuries. The other two robbers were frozen in place, apparently waiting for new instructions after this turn of events. Robber One was still near the entrance doors, the other, Robber Three was maintaining his guard position standing over the hostages.

"…perfect." Two was saying in a snatch that reached his ears. Don turned back to the two men. "We can-"

"No. We stick with the plan." Four interrupted hotly, his voice raised enough to carry clearly. He glanced over at the agent and saw that they were being watched closely. He lowered his voice and the rest of what he said was lost.

"…don't need the money this way." Two insisted a moment later.

Four hesitated and seemed to consider the point. Again he considered the agent before keeping his voice low in a mostly inaudible reply. "…do both."

By the change in his stance Two seemed happy with that idea. It was very hard to read emotions with the robbers so well concealed by their clothing but that much Don could see. He came to the unwelcome conclusion that today's heist was going to become something more.

"Right. Back to work." Four suddenly said firmly. He pointed at first at Three, then at Two. "You help me. He'll watch them and the fed."

"Fine." Three muttered, clearly unhappy at the delay as he immediately headed towards the counter. "Let's just get this done before the cops get here."

Don could only watch helplessly as Three stopped suddenly and hauled a suited woman to her feet. The woman was in her forties and immaculately presented. She had to be the branch manager, Don surmised. She was dragged over to the door fitted at the side of the counter and forced to punch in the code that unlocked it. Four simply repeated his earlier manoeuvre, climbing over the counter to meet them on the other side. The robbers had either taken control quickly enough that the tellers hadn't activated their anti-robbery screens, or had been prevented from doing so by threats against the customers. He wondered if they'd been able at least to activate the alarm, the robbers apparent haste now suggested that was a distinct possibility. The two men ignored the cashier's tills propelling the manager ahead of them towards the large steel door that stood open at the side of the bank.

He was relieved to see that the woman kept her cool and followed the robbers' orders. She would have recognised her assailants as easily as he had. During the last robbery the manager had been killed for daring to resist. The Kalashnikov had been set on full auto, at six hundred rounds per minute that meant just over half of the thirty round clip got sprayed into the hostages during that second or so, leaving two others dead and more injured. The FBI had put out an urgent advice to all staff to comply with the offenders in the event of a robbery. They money was insured and could be replaced, lives couldn't. Clearly this manager was taking the advice.

A few minutes later they returned carrying backpacks that would be filled with large denomination bills. For some reason the robbers seemed to be intent on stealing as much money as possible. They seemed not to be worried about consecutive numbering, taking some bundles of new bills along with used, nor the greater difficulty in disposing of larger denominations. That was one of the things that had struck both he and his team as being off about this crew. They were smart enough to completely disguise themselves, stick to a set format, ruthlessly deal with resistance and make a clean escape each time. Why weren't they smart enough to take only used bills in smaller denominations? Surely they would know that those bills would be next to impossible to trace when spent later.

On their side however, their unusual preference had led to an impressive haul, 1.8 million dollars and change so far. Clearly they needed an impressive sum of money and needed it quickly. Their increasing frequency of hits indicated that. Don could only wonder at what they needed the money for. In this current climate his thoughts couldn't help but wander towards some form of terrorist enterprise. A lot of weapons could be bought for that kind of money, or a few weapons of a very specialised sort. The last was what worried him the most.

"Time?" Four demanded as they moved back out to the public area. Three shoved the bank manager down to the floor and headed out towards the back preparing for their escape. Don knew there would be a yet-to-be-reported stolen van or SUV parked waiting.

Robber One glanced at his watch in obvious disgust, shaking his head as his arm dropped. "Far too long."

"Let's go." Four ordered.

"On your feet, Fed. You're coming with us." Two instructed, his rifle muzzle jerking upwards before sweeping across a short arc encompassing the people lying on the floor. "You try anything and they die. Got it?"

The agent stood, carefully keeping his hands clasped. He was not going to risk innocent lives. "Got it."

"Move." Two shoved at the agent's back with his rifle and was pleased to see that unlike last time the agent didn't try to argue his way out of it. That was only because they had no time for it, otherwise he would have welcomed using some greater degree of force to ensure compliance.

Don carefully stepped around the customers and bank staff and followed Four as he made for the exit. He briefly glanced back past Two and the continually prodding rifle and was relieved to see One closing up to leave with them. He'd worried that One might hang back a moment to ensure the agent's continued cooperation once outside the bank. Not that he was sure that he wasn't going to be cooperative every step of the way, he thought to himself wryly. Hard to argue with such weaponry arrayed against him. But at least if an opportunity did present he could attempt to take advantage without worrying about the collateral damage as Two had threatened.

He stepped outside into the brilliant sunshine of a warm spring day. The bright weather seemed in contrast to the dark situation he had found himself in. Another shove and he continued moving towards the silver Dodge SUV. A small surprise, there was no fifth member of the gang as the FBI had thought, no wheelman. Robber Three was behind the wheel, the engine running as he waited for the others. That was an unexpected risk, that the vehicle could be found or that the engine could fail to start when needed. Not that that hardly mattered, today the vehicle was right where they'd left it and obviously the engine had started. There was nothing to prevent their getaway.

Nothing that was, except the sirens that could be heard rapidly approaching.

"Go, go, go!" One yelled.

The robbers hustled; time was well and truly against them now. They needed to be out and well clear of this alley before the black and whites arrived otherwise they would immediately be considered suspect and pursued.

Whilst not exactly what he'd been hoping for Don saw the possibility that this lent him, delay the offenders and increase the chance that they would be surrounded. A standoff here would be better than letting them take him God-only-knew-where away from the possibility of help. He deliberately stumbled and fell, using his unrestrained hands to break his fall. He immediately rolled to one side desperately trying to put some distance, any distance, between himself and the offenders. He was banking on the apparent desire for them to take him with them alive to make them refrain from shooting at him straight away. It was slim, but all he had.

"Stop him!" Two yelled angrily.

Unfortunately One had already started to move after seeing Don drop and was now closest to him, the rifle already swinging to bear. The agent moved quickly, lashing out with a foot, just catching the offender on the back of his right knee. The blow was less than he would have liked but effective all the same, One crashing to the ground as he was suddenly unbalanced. The man remained still, out cold after striking his head.

Scrambling for the weapon Don lost track of Two until an instant or so later. A heavy blow to his shoulder sent him sprawling. He managed to roll partway over to his side in time to see a dark shape rapidly descending towards his head.

.

_**A/N:** For those that wonder, the 'half remembered movie' was _**Jackie Brown**_ 1997._


	2. Chapter 2

_Numb3rs: Crosshairs_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_**A/N:** Hmmn, this may not be what everyone expects, but then you all know how I like twists. *grin* Don't worry, there is much more danger for Don ahead! *evil!grin*_

**CHAPTER TWO**

-100-1111-1110-

"Are you sure you're alright?" David demanded in concern.

Don looked up at his agent from where he was seated at the back of the ambulance and tried not to wince at the pain that lanced through both shoulder and head at his movement. Pain that was not helped any by the paramedic shining a bright light into each eye in turn.

"I'm sure." He immediately saw the doubt in Sinclair's face and had to admit that even to him he had sounded more than a little rocky.

"Don," David started.

"I'm good, David." He replaced the icepack against the side of his head before struggling to stand. He was a little unsteady but shrugged off the paramedic's attempt to assist him.

The EMT for his part seemed used to law enforcement and simply worked to pack away his unneeded equipment, he knew this one wasn't going to be coming with him to hospital. "You know the spiel, Agent?"

"Blurriness, dizziness or nausea, see a doctor. Right?"

"Right." The EMT finished tidying up and grabbed his bag, heading into the bank to join his partner checking over the customers and staff.

"Don, maybe you should-"

"David, leave it. We have work to do. What do we have?"

David shook his head in frustration then got down to business. "You tell me. What happened here Don?"

Colby and Nikki had already gone inside the bank to question the witnesses. David had stayed outside watching as his boss had been placed semi-conscious into the ambulance before coming fully to. All he had to go on was what he could see and what the first responders had told him. The senior agent had been found unconscious, alone in the empty alley behind the bank. Scuff marks suggested some sort of physical altercation had occurred, most probably between said agent and the offenders. Other marks showed that a vehicle had left quickly, spinning it's tyres in a rapid exit.

"Was anyone else here when you arrived?" Don asked.

"Just the uniforms. And you."

"Damn. I got one of them, I hoped the others would have left him."

"You shot one?" David queried hopefully. The uniforms had not yet located the senior agent's weapon and were still searching the alley. Up til now there'd been no indication of anyone being shot.

He started to shake his head then immediately regretted it. Moving the icepack to the side of his neck seemed to help. "No, I'd been disarmed. I knocked one down and he was out cold before the other one got me. The sirens were close, LAPD couldn't have missed them by much."

It didn't take much, David knew. Don had already given them the description of the Dodge and it was out on the air but there were hundreds of them in the greater Los Angeles area and it had probably already been dumped and torched to destroy evidence. "There were only two of them?"

"No, four." Don had to get his thoughts under control before he confused the issue further. His mind was spinning off in a dozen different directions, not least of which was still trying to figure out what made him special in the robber's eyes. There was so much work to do and it was frustrating to have been so close to catching at least one if not all of the offenders only to have missed. "It was the AK-47s."

Pulling out his notebook and pen, David nodded. That much they already knew. "Don, start from the top. What happened?"

Don finished up his tale at his last recollection. "Then Two smashed me with his rifle butt. That's it."

David quickly finished writing before looking up and eyeing off the colourful bruise developing on the side of the senior agent's face. He couldn't believe Don had taken on men armed with AKs and survived. "You were lucky. They could have just shot you."

"Yeah, but they didn't." The senior agent said pointedly. They should have. He'd resisted and the robbers had already demonstrated their response to that. But instead they'd simply knocked him out and left him where he fell. The pressure from the approaching sirens could explain that, they'd only had time to take their own man and not come back for him. It didn't however, explain the rest. Why were they so keen to kidnap an FBI agent? And how was it that his presence could make the robbers' efforts obsolete? Two's comment about no longer needing money seemed to point that way.

"You sure they were going to take you with them? Not just out of the bank but away?"

"I'm sure." He figured if they hadn't been planning on keeping him there would have been a bullet or twenty in his back the moment after they'd left the bank.

"Why? It was close, sure, but they didn't need a hostage. They had no need to take you anywhere. They've never even tried to take anyone before."

"I don't know. What can I say, David? It seemed like they knew me, or at least two of them did. It changed their plans and they wanted me."

"If they knew you, then you know them."

"That's what I thought at first." He tried to play Devil's advocate. "Maybe they've seen the news and they just took advantage of the opportunity."

There had been more than one interview over the last few weeks as the robberies continued despite the FBI's best efforts. Interviews that had plastered his face across televisions nationally. He didn't believe it but it was still a plausible explanation for part of it at least. FBI agents were just as vulnerable as any other LEO, if the AK-47s had wanted an FBI agent they would have taken one by now. His stumbling in had been an accident.

"No." David shook his head. With the other information Don had just told him he didn't think that the senior agent's face on the television was the answer. He was however prepared to accept that taking one Don Eppes was not the end game of the offenders. If they had wanted his team leader they could have abducted him by now if they were serious enough, and he had no reason to doubt that the AK-47s were not serious enough.

David pressed on. "You said you recognised the voice of one of them. You know him, he also recognised you. This is our best lead yet."

"Some lead, I can't remember how I know the voice."

"But you're sure you do know it."

"I'm sure."

"Then it will come to you." David put away his notebook and looked his boss over again. It was still only spring but the day was shaping up to be a hot one, the forecasters were starting to predict a heat wave, and Don looked to be wilting. The bank was air-conditioned. Time for a little tact. "Come on, let's see what Colby and Nikki have got."

What they had was variations on the general theme. Four robbers all masked and professional had stormed in through the back door waving their rifles around. No shots had been fired, the offenders yelling and showing off their weapons had been more than sufficient to have customers and staff diving for the floor. The one security guard on duty had sensibly surrendered the moment a Kalashnikov had been pointed at him. The offenders had been moving to lock the doors when one last customer had entered. The rest in varying degrees of detail matched Don's account.

Only the manager, Kerry, had more to add. The offenders had taken her into the safe and had ignored some already bagged up cash. She had offered them the bags in an effort to get them out quicker but they had insisted on the large denominations and had taken the extra time to ensure that's what they got. Being in the industry she knew, just as the agents did, how odd that was but had no explanation. There had been no conversation other than instructions to find exactly what they were after. She also couldn't shed any light on the offenders' reasoning.

True to form the burnt out wreckage of the Dodge was located in a back alley a few blocks away. Attempts to question bystanders and staff in the immediate vicinity yielded no results. As on previous occasions they were unable to identify the second getaway vehicle or a direction of travel.

"So what have we got?" The frustrated team leader demanded.

They were back at the Field Office, Don had finished his statement to be included in the file as the team had been attempting to identify the getaway vehicle. David had insisted on his resting up in order to recover from his encounter by rightfully stating that his witness account was crucial to the investigation and had to be obtained immediately. After reading it through when he'd finished Don wasn't so sure but it was still more than they'd had before this. At least they could come to the conclusion that Two and Four were in command of the operation, the other two offenders were obviously not part of the decision making process. Where that led them he couldn't yet say but it was interesting all the same.

"Not much more than we had before." Colby summed up.

"I wouldn't say that."

"Have you got enough data now, Charlie?" Don asked after his brother's comment.

"There is never enough data." Charlie didn't bother going into the distinction between 'never enough data' and 'too much data'. The frustration the team was feeling was apparent, they would not appreciate a lecture just now. "But I can add what we got from this latest one to what we had. I should be able to narrow down the list of possible targets based on their need for large denomination cash, service roads at rear or side entrances, most probable escape routes and the layouts of the banks themselves."

"It hasn't worked so far." Don mumbled.

"I know, Don." Brotherly familiarity enabled him to decipher the words. "But the more we get the greater the probability I'll develop something that works."

"That's the problem, Charlie." David put in. "To get more data we need more robberies and that leads to the greater chance of more people being killed."

Charlie couldn't help but look at the deep red and purple mark on the side of his brother's face. The fact his brother hadn't been shot was a happy anomaly. "I know. I'm working on it. What I can tell you for now is that they will only target banks within the central Los Angeles area."

"Just because most of the others have been doesn't mean they'll keep doing it." Nikki said. "They gotta know we'll be watching for that."

"They do and you have been. Central LA offers them the best chance of hitting a bank with large cash reserves as well as the density of traffic providing their best bet at hiding their trail. I just have to try to find what made the specific banks they've already targeted stand out from the others that match their criteria to identify the next probable robbery."

Don rubbed his hand down his face, carefully avoiding the area that was letting him know it would appreciate an application of more ice. The team had been in this exact same position after the previous robberies, Charlie insisting that he was getting closer and promising to be able to predict the next target. So far however they had only slightly narrowed the field, enough to spread their resources painfully thin with no result. He looked at the results of their combined efforts over the last few weeks, the boxes and boxes of statements and reports and the boards holding bank blueprints and photographs.

"Charlie, get on that. The rest of us are going to go back to basics." He waved his hands at the evidence surrounding them. "We're going to take this from the top."

-10010-1111-10-10-101-10010-10011-

Quite some distance away in a hotel room another team was meeting and working on their plan of action.

"If we have Agent Eppes they will give us what we want." The man that the agent in question had dubbed 'Two' pressed his point. The argument had been running in one form or another for a while now.

"Look, I know I agreed to it back at the bank. But that was when we had him. Now we don't." 'Four' responded. "We should just stick with the plan. We have nearly enough, two or three more jobs and we'll be right."

"So when we get him out we'll have nothing."

"There's nothing we can do about that. We can't keep pulling these jobs, they'll catch up with us soon enough."

"So if we take the fed and offer him in return, we get to keep the money for ourselves. We won't need to pay Turner and his crew."

"Maybe, maybe not. But we will have to pay the men he lent us." He glanced through the open door between their two rooms to where he could see the two other men quietly playing cards. West had a graze on his forehead as a result of the agent's attack. Turner's loan had been more than just the two men, West and Buckley, and the weapons they were using. The ex-military men had drilled their employers, greatly increasing their skill sets enabling them to pull off the robberies without being caught so far. A side effect was an increase in confidence.

"Fine, we pay them. We pay them a bigger cut than they asked for the robberies. Then that's it. We keep the rest. Think about it, with that much money it will be easy to vanish."

"You just want revenge."

The younger man stopped cleaning the sniper rifle and looked up at the older man, his father's best friend. "That fed put Dad in jail. What do you think? I want revenge, alright. I might even start by breaking his arm again."

"It wasn't his fault Scott went to jail. Scott handed himself in, remember?"

"I remember Eppes trying to talk Dad into giving himself up."

"And you remember that it wasn't until after Eppes had killed those two crooked cops that he did it."

"Eppes didn't kill them, they killed themselves. He was just there when it happened. Dad shouldn't have let himself be tricked like that, shouldn't have let the fed take him in."

"There were no tricks involved. You know that. It was just that what happened after the crash and all was too heavy for him. He wanted to pay his due."

"Well it wasn't too heavy for me." With a few kills under his belt now he felt more than a little confident in saying that. It hadn't bothered him in the slightest when his father had forced the FBI agent into the pickup that night in the forest, just as it hadn't bothered him to twist the agent's broken arm to force him to play along with his father's orders. "Dad would have got over it. There was no need to be scared anymore, we could have been away scot-free if he had wanted."

"Brad, we both know he doesn't belong in jail. Even though he's been moved to minimum security at La Tuna it's still a Federal jail and hard for him. We're going to get him out, alright? That's what all this has been about."

The younger man worked at calming himself down. He wanted to sell this idea he had to be rational. He could have the best of both worlds, he was sure of it. "Just listen to the plan alright, Jack? Then tell me if it will work or not."

Jack hesitated a moment before he nodded. He had to admit, privately, that giving away all the stolen money rankled. What they'd been doing recently went far beyond any of the plain amateurish hold-ups he'd ever pulled at gas stations and convenience stores over the years back in Albuquerque. Scott Nelson had always been a little too soft for his liking, having confined his criminal activities to non-violent thefts and fraud, but for all that they had maintained a friendship from childhood. He knew that Scott would disapprove of their latest venture but Jack liked the new occupation and his friend wouldn't be able to complain too much when it worked in his benefit. The money they had been rapidly acquiring was intended to go towards paying Turner's crew to spring Brad's father from jail and then to cover the cost of their escape from the US.

"Go ahead."

The younger man looked down at the sniper rifle in his hands, a rifle he'd discovered a new proficiency with. While Jack was still the far better shot and would be the main one shooting if his plan came to fruition, he was still planning on adding a few carefully targeted shots to the fray himself.

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	3. Chapter 3

_Numb3rs: Crosshairs_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_**A/N:**__ The question was asked - when is this set relative to the seasons and Don's relationship with David? It is set during the first half of season five, probably up to about ep 12 or so which is where I was when I started writing. No spoilers, some brief mention in passing of some things from seasons one and four._

_Okay, I think we're about done warming up. Let the real action begin…_

**CHAPTER THREE**

-100-1111-1110-

He'd just finished chewing out not only his team but the second team now assigned to assist with the investigation into the AK-47s. No one was producing any viable leads. The banks would be hit then the four men would just simply vanish into thin air. Don couldn't believe it was happening but that didn't change the fact that it was. Surveillance footage of the surrounding areas would show the getaway vehicle leaving the scene, would track it for a short distance before gaps in the system made each subsequent sighting of the vehicle more doubtful. More than once they'd pounced to be embarrassingly wrong before reports of the burnt out remains of the real vehicle came in. There was nothing for it but to keep going, to have as many agents and where necessary LAPD detectives stationed near possible targets ready to respond and intercept any suspect vehicles. So far the targets they'd staked out had not been the correct ones. There had been two more robberies in this last week since his attempted kidnapping and they had been close on this last one, even Charlie copped a burn over that. Close was not good enough.

Trying to tell himself it was frustration along with the short temper caused by the weather, now officially identified as being a heat wave he headed for the break room. Calming himself down with a stimulant, namely coffee was probably not the best idea but, as his two teams along with Charlie scurried off trying to pull rabbits out of non-existent hats, it was what he wanted. Angrily he flicked the stirrer in the general direction of the trash, not checking to see if it made its way in. Instead he stepped out into the corridor and stared out over the city as if he would be magically able to spot the offenders he was after. The heat haze illuminated by the setting sun prevented him from seeing much of anything. No help there.

This robbery crew were good, they were damned good. But so was his. Given enough time either they or Charlie, or both would come up with something and the AK-47s would be caught. It was just that time was something that he didn't have. There had been another death during the last robbery, another death that should have been avoided. They all felt badly, the kid was barely sixteen, depositing his meagre earnings from his first job. It wasn't fair. Just as it wasn't fair what he'd just done to his people, nor was the heat coming down from on high directed squarely at his shoulders. They were doing everything and more to catch the offenders, this last death raising their motivation to new levels. Something had to give soon, every agent, not just those directly under his command were putting the word out, rousting informants and trying to get even a whiff of a lead.

As if reading his thoughts his cell chose that moment to ring. Flipping the cell open he answered it in his usual terse manner. "Eppes."

"_Control, Special Agent Eppes."_ The operator identified calmly, used to the agent's normal response. _"I have a caller wanting to speak to the Agent in Charge about the AK-47s. Says he has some information he'll only give to you."_

It wasn't the first such call and most likely wouldn't be the last. Most people only wanted to speak to the man in charge. Unfortunately due to the media coverage everyone knew who the agent in charge of this investigation was. "Have you got the number he's calling from?"

"_Comes up as a payphone on Hollywood Boulevard, Hollywood."_

Not much help from that angle but you never knew, they might get lucky and find a surveillance camera pointing in the right direction. "Put him through."

"_Hello?"_ A male voice queried.

"This is Special Agent Eppes. You have some information regarding the AK-47 robberies?"

"_Not over the phone."_ The male sounded a little jumpy, his voice choppy and low and slightly muffled. Traffic noise could be heard in the background.

"Who is this?"

"_My name isn't important. Er, call me Steve." _The man seemed to understand that a name, no matter how false, would be useful.

"Okay, Steve. I need something to know you are the real deal if you expect me to meet with you." The agent insisted.

"_Uh, um. Alright."_ Steve seemed hesitant but appeared to have come to a decision. _"The men you are looking for, the AK-47s, I know where they were staying."_

"Where they were staying? Not where they are now?" That he would have jumped on no matter that the source was a complete unknown.

"_Not yet, I'll get it though. I also know who they are."_

"Who are they?"

"_Only gonna tell you that in person. Bring some dough."_

"Before we get anywhere near that buddy, I need to get something from you."

"_Go to the Hollywood Downtowner Inn on Hollywood Boulevard and you'll see." _Steve fired straight back, the jitters gone._ "I know there's a reward for this."_

"Only leading to arrest and conviction and you've given me nothing yet." Don said as he finished jotting down the address, noting that Control had told him the payphone the informant was using was on Hollywood Boulevard. "When did they leave the hotel?"

"_Around midday."_

If this informant was right that meant the AK-47's could be well out of town by now. Don wasn't sure if that was good or bad, it would reduce his headache somewhat only to foist the mess on someone else's shoulders. He had wanted to stop this crew before they moved on.

Steve continued, his voice dropping. _"Do you want it or what?"_

"If what you've given me pans out I'll meet." He glanced at his watch noting that it had just gone 5:30pm. The DA's office had just closed but getting a warrant, especially for this investigation wouldn't be too difficult.

"_I'll call you."_ Abruptly the call terminated.

Don stared at his cell for a moment. There were times when he was sure informants had been taking lessons from old espionage films. Cell phones were digital and encrypted making them safe ways of passing on information. On the other hand some informants were not happy with the usual system of receiving a code number in order to anonymously obtain reward money from the Government. Some would only pass information on after cash had changed hands. This Steve character seemed to be one of those. He mentally shook himself, there was work to do.

Two hours later the old blue ford sedan pulled in behind the grey van parked a couple of blocks over from the Hollywood Downtowner Inn. Two figures climbed out of the car and into the rear of the van only to find that the air-conditioning inside was not quite keeping up with the heat that was persisting after sundown.

"Rooms five and six." Nikki started without preamble at her team leader's look. "Two men per room. They arrived three days before the first robbery and booked out incurring a late fee at 12:30pm today."

"A late fee?" Don frowned, wondering what could be significant about that.

Nikki and Colby however, had just spent the last quarter an hour listening to the manager complaining about people checking out late with no notice after long stays.

"Anyway," Colby picked up the briefing seeing his boss was in no mood for extraneous information. "The manager stated there were four men in total, two looked like ex-military types in their early-thirties. The third man was probably in his late-forties to early-fifties and the fourth was maybe around twenty years old. The military types stayed in five, the other two in six. Does that fit with the men you saw?"

Don gave it a moments thought. Robbers One and Three had seemed to be of similar age that he'd pegged between mid-twenties to late-thirties, hard to be more precise than that. They'd both moved with a certain precision that could smack of military training. Robber Four had seemed to be significantly older than Two. He decided that these four men could be them. "It fits well enough. Have you got their names?"

"Just one, the manager only gets the ID from whoever's going to pay the bill." Nikki opened her notebook pulling out a folded sheet of paper. "John Sheehan. Here's a copy of his driver's licence."

Taking the paper he saw the image of a bearded older man looking back at him from the copy of the New Mexico driver's licence. Clearly this was the eldest of the group and didn't look familiar.

"The beard's gone now. We've already run it and got nothing beyond the usual traffic history you might expect, some speeding and parking fines in his home state. Nothing in California or LA."

He put the paper aside. "So they've definitely checked out?"

"Gone. Room five's been rented back out, six is still vacant. The manager's agreed to hold it for us."

"You've checked it?" Don sounded less than pleased.

Colby and Nikki looked at each other. They'd debated the point between themselves back in the manager's office and had decided to take the risk and make a quick pass to confirm the manager's information.

"Uh, yeah. We, I, felt that it was safe to do so." Colby admitted. When the expected explosion didn't come he continued. "There's a couple from Las Vegas in five and six is definitely empty. The room's already been serviced and there was nothing in it."

"Well, get forensics to have a look anyway. The manager's cooperating?"

"Yeah, appears he's had trouble guests in the past and is only too pleased to have law enforcement types around to prevent problems in the future. He's offered to move the couple out of five if we want."

"Do it. Supervise the forensics team and let me know if you get anything." Don ordered already slipping out of his ballistic vest.

"Sure thing boss." Nikki acknowledged breathing out a sigh of relief. Their brief had been to identify the two rooms and bring the information back for a full scale raid, not to approach. It was only that one of the rooms had already been rented out and both cleaned that they'd felt safe to risk it.

The two agents climbed back out of the van and returned to their sedan. Colby had already noticed a coffee shop a short distance away and that's where they were headed first for some much needed pick-me-ups to carry them through the excitement of watching forensics pick over a cleaned room.

"David, let's pack it up and head back in." Don ordered as the door slid shut behind his two agents.

Agent Sinclair nodded and activated his radio. "Team One to Team Two."

"_Team Two."_ They were holding in a similar van two blocks over from the motel in the opposite direction.

"The raid's a bust. Return to the office."

"_Roger that. Team Two returning."_

He eyed the door speculatively for a moment as if he could see Nikki and Colby getting into the sedan. They had gone against orders and he'd seen the look they'd given him expecting another chewing out. It had only taken him a second to decide that they'd made the correct call given the information they had and thus saved them all the time that a raid would have taken up. David started the van and he moved forward to take the passenger seat, snagging the photocopy on the way past.

Four hours later it was approaching midnight. The extensive inquires he'd run on John Sheehan had revealed nothing more useful than the unsurprising fact that the ID was fake. There was a John Sheehan in El Paso with the traffic history Nikki had already discovered. The only problem was that John Sheehan was African-American and thus not the man in the photograph. The date of birth and other details all belonged to the real Sheehan, everything except the photograph. As an ultra-longshot Don had requested the local bureau agents to interview Sheehan to see what might turn up. The AK-47s had to have obtained his details somehow.

An intermittent buzzing interrupted his thoughts and he realised it was his cell, still set to silent mode from the aborted raid and now sitting on the table top hence the audible buzzing. "Eppes."

"_Control, Special Agent Eppes."_ The operator, female this time identified herself. _"I have a caller stating he spoke to you earlier regarding the Hollywood Downtowner Inn."_

"Where does the call originate?"

"_Payphone on West 5__th__ Street."_

"Put him through."

"_I was right, wasn't I?"_ Steve stated, his once again slightly muffled voice sounding calmer than he had earlier.

The agent hesitated a moment. The only way the informant could know they'd already acted on the information was that he'd been watching them. "You saw us."

"_Not you, but I saw the other feds at the motel."_

Okay, that showed a certain level of determination on the informant's part to carry through on his deal. "I want their names and their new location."

"_Pershing Square. You know it?"_

How could he not? He, along with anyone that worked in or drove through central LA went past the large square in downtown LA on a regular basis. "I know it. When and how will I know you?"

"_Head for the middle of the square, past the fountain. I'll find you. 8:00am." _Steve abruptly hung up.

Once again Don was left staring at his cell phone at the suddenness of the disconnection, Steve hadn't waited to be sure his instructions were understood or would be complied with. Steve had also failed to mention money.

"The informant who gave us the motel?"

Looking up as David placed another cup of coffee on the table in front of him Don nodded. "He wants to meet, tomorrow morning at Pershing Square."

"Pershing Square?" David tapped at the war room's computer terminal keyboard. The plasma screen lit up with a satellite photograph of the square courtesy of Google Maps.

Looking at the names of the streets surrounding the square Don noted something interesting. "He was calling from West 5th Street. Just like he was calling from Hollywood Boulevard earlier. What else is on West 5th Street aside from the square?"

David scrolled the image around and it wasn't long before they found a building that they both recognised. US Bank Tower. "Think that's significant?"

"Don't you?" Don said as he moved closer to get a better look at the building a block and a half from the square. "They've got a branch there, as well as their Californian Head Office. That's got to mean something."

"You think that could be the AK-47s next target?"

"It's on Charlie's latest list." Charlie had narrowed the next likely bank down to just three, finally a usable number that they could cover. The US Bank branch had been included. He recognised another building near the square, the City National Bank on West 6th Street. Checking Charlie's list it was not included.

"So how do you want to play this?"

Don looked around at the empty war room; he'd already sent everyone else home to get some rest in the few hours that remained before they had to be back to set up for tomorrow's stakeouts. David had refused to go until his boss did. "We continue with the rest as arranged. You take the US Bank Tower and I'll go to the meet."

He'd originally been leading the stakeout at the US Bank with David. Nikki and Colby were heading up the team at another target a good ten blocks away with another two agents from the second team taking point at the third target even further out. They'd been assigned some more agents to help beef up the numbers at each target. This sort of stake out he'd done once before and that had gone badly, resulting in the death of an agent, he was determined that wouldn't happen this time. A thorough briefing had been given a short time before once Charlie had come through with the revised target list. Another briefing would be given first thing before they moved out in the morning.

He grabbed a pen and made a notation of the extra activity on the whiteboard they'd used for their planning.

"Who's going to be your second?" David asked. At the expression on Don's face he added, "You're not going alone, you don't know anything about this informant."

Consulting the whiteboard, a name was erased and placed next to his under the new heading of 'Pershing Square'. "I'll take Curtis."

David knew Curtis was the least experienced of the agents available but had to go along with Don's reasoning. The meeting was of low risk, the chance that one of the three banks was going to be hit either tomorrow or the next day was high, better to keep the more experienced agents in place.

The next morning at five minutes before eight Don pulled the black suburban into the drop-off zone off South Olive Street at the side of the square. From here it was just a short walk to the open centre of the square visible from their position through the ornamental trees. He climbed out and waited as Curtis moved around and climbed back in to take the driver's seat ready to quickly move the SUV if the occasion called for it.

With a lift of his hand Don made his way through the shelter and was well out in the square proper when his phone rang. Thinking that something had already happened at one of the stakeouts he ripped it off his belt in record time, snapping it open before the second ring. "Eppes."

"_Control. I have a caller for you, stating it's urgent." _The operator stated.

"Put it through."

"_How does it feel Agent Eppes?"_ The voice was male and even though it wasn't Steve there was something familiar about it.

"Huh?"

"_How does it feel to be in my crosshairs?"_

A sudden dread filled his body and memory of where he'd recently heard the voice surfaced. The bank, this was one of the AK-47s, the one he'd called 'Four'. His eyes flicked up at the roof tops ahead of him but there was nothing to be seen. His steps slowed and faltered as he turned full circle looking at the other tall buildings surrounding the square. "Who is this? What do you want?"

"_I'm the man with you in my crosshairs."_ The voice came back calmly. _"I want you to stop in the middle of the square. One more step and I pull the trigger."_

The centre of the square was only a few paces away, he'd already passed the fountain off to his right. The designated meeting place was empty and it was obvious now that the meet with the supposed informant had been a set up. "Uh huh. And then what?"

"_Then we play."_

He reached the centre of the square and hesitated. It was just a voice on the phone, it had to be tested. He took another step. Almost instantaneously a bullet ricocheted off the concrete just ahead of him followed an instant later by the sound of the shot.

"_Do you want to try that again, or do you believe me now?"_

.


	4. Chapter 4

_Numb3rs: Crosshairs_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

CHAPTER FOUR

-100-1111-1110-

Standing in the middle of the square the agent concentrated on taking a few deep breaths to calm himself after the shot, cell phone still clamped to his ear. Just then there was a shout from behind him.

"_Stop him, stop him right now or he's dead."_ Four suddenly ordered.

Don had turned at the junior agent's concerned shout and now saw Curtis heading his way at a run. The younger man had heard the shot, seen his superior's sudden halt in the centre of the square and had reacted instinctively, trying to reach him. Frantically Don raised his arm and called out. Unthinkingly he also took a step towards the other. The second shot striking the concrete a few feet in front of him stopped him in his tracks.

"_I never told you to move, Eppes."_

Fortunately the shot had also caused Curtis to stop, automatically ducking as he searched for cover, for something better than the widely spaced ornamental trees surrounding him. His gun was in his hand but he had nothing to aim at. A passer-by saw the exposed weapon and shied away, taking a few rapid steps before slowing and walking off when it appeared he wasn't at risk. Nothing fazed Angelino's much.

"Sir?" Curtis called, seeking instructions.

"Don't move. Sniper."

"Where?"

"Don't know. He can see me, he can see you." Don saw Curtis look up and scan the surrounding rooflines.

"What about the SUV?" Curtis queried. "Will it block his line of sight?"

The junior agent's idea had merit, bring the SUV into the square using the vehicle's bulk to block the sniper's aim. He could then recover the threatened agent and get the hell out of Dodge. There was just the problem of the sniper himself. With only the two shots and the echoes caused by the high-rises it was impossible to tell where the sniper was located. That and the likelihood the sniper could get a shot or more off as the SUV started its run.

"No. Wait." Don had pressed the cell phone against his chest in an effort to mute his conversation, now he raised it back to his ear. "Can he move?"

Four answered immediately. _"He can back off. He tries to get near you again, he's dead."_

"Curtis, get back to the car and stay there. Call it in." Don ordered.

"Sir." Curtis slowly rose from his crouch and moved back towards the SUV holstering his weapon in favour of his cell.

"What do you want?" Don demanded into his own phone as Curtis retreated.

"_What I want is your cell number so I can call you direct."_

Reluctantly he rattled it off. "Now what?"

"_Now I want the number of the person I'm going to be negotiating with. The one who is going to give me what I want in return for your life."_

"Tell me what you want." He couldn't help but jump slightly as the third shot struck the concrete behind him. Through the cell phone he could hear the rifle action being worked to load a new round.

"_I can do this all day, Fed. They will likely get a little closer each time."_ Four warned.

Another number rattled off. "That's Special Agent Sinclair."

"_Good." _Four said, satisfied. _"Before I speak with him I have some things that you can help me with. I'm going to get off the line in a moment so you can them organised. I'm sure the other fed is onto this but it will carry more weight coming from you. First, block off all access to the square, no one is to enter the boundary. As you're unavailable I suggest you get LAPD to help you with that. I'll let them in to clear the shelters and the car rental business but if any get too close to you I start shooting. Not warnings, kill shots. Once the square's empty they all get out. Understand?"_

"I understand."

At this hour the square contained people using it as a short cut towards work. Their numbers would only increase. Watching them walk through unaware of their danger started Don sweating. Rather, he started sweating more in the early morning heat. Most, if not all, were probably in the sniper's range. So far no-one had come too close to him for which he was thankful. He was also thankful that aside from a few turned heads at the sounds of the shots and the one man that had seen the weapon in the other agent's hand, no-one was otherwise reacting or panicking. His brief conversation with Curtis appeared to have gone unnoticed, lost under the traffic noise and blocked by the iPods most were wearing.

"_I also want the roads closed. Second, your SUV stays where it is with the keys in it. We're going to need it later. The other fed can get out and move down the road a ways."_

"What do you want my car for?" He asked, fishing for information.

"_A bit early for that yet, Eppes." _A brief hint of amusement surfaced in Four's voice. _"Third, get Sinclair down here, he can set up down near West 5__th__ Street."_

"Why there?" Don started trying to calculate the shot angles in order to narrow down the sniper's nest.

"_No reason. He can set up his command unit anywhere he likes so long as it's in the open, on the street somewhere around the square. I don't want him in any of the buildings or shops. I want to be able to see him."_

"I'm not going to set him up as a target for you." Don winced, expecting another shot in disapproval but nothing happened.

"_My weapon's only going to be aimed at you, Eppes."_ Four reminded him. _"Sinclair and everyone else will be safe as long as they don't cross the boundary into the square."_

It seemed that Four was aware of the circus that was about to develop in this corner of LA, of the numbers of police and agents that were going to be flooding the area around his stated kill zone. "What else?"

"_That'll do. I want everything set, the square evacuated and Sinclair ready to talk within half an hour."_ There was a click as Four hung up.

Don immediately dialled David's number.

"_Agent Sinclair."_

"David, it's me. I got a situation here."

"_Are you alright? I just got the call from Control." _

"I'm fine."

"_What's the situation? Control said you're pinned down by a sniper in the square."_

'Pinned down' implied that he was behind some cover, not out in the open. Don gave him a quick rundown on his position. "I've been given some instructions."

David was all business. _"I've already diverted some agents your way. What do you need?"_

"Keep those agents back." Don instructed before he explained Four's orders, stressing that only LAPD were to enter the square to clear it.

"_I'll get it done. I'm ordering the command centre. What about the stakeouts?"_

He gave that a moment's thought. The original brief had been to be covert. There was no longer any advantage to that. "Make it obvious we're there. See if the banks will cooperate and hold off opening. If the AK-47s think holding me is a way of getting money let them ask you for it."

"_The sniper's asked for money?"_

"He won't tell me what he wants but it has to be what they're after. He'll only make his demands to you."

"_Alright. I'll be there soon. Don't get yourself shot."_

"Working on avoiding that, David." Don said in an attempt at humour as much for himself as for Sinclair. He snapped the cell closed and slid it back into the holder on his belt.

Reaching quickly for his ID Don then sent away a scurrying Angelino that had gotten too close. As the woman continued on her way Don couldn't help but already feel isolated and knew that the feeling would only intensify when the square and surrounding streets were cleared.

It was only a minute or so later that he heard the first of many sirens approaching. Marked cars screeched to a halt one after the other in the intersections at the square's corners. Traffic slowly reduced as cars exited but were no longer allowed to enter into the area. A few minutes later more black and whites arrived and uniformed officers moved carefully to evacuate the civilians from Pershing Square. Just as the last person was being escorted out one officer, a supervisor by his insignia moved carefully to within yelling distance, keeping close to the dubious shelter of the wall of the car rental office.

"Agent?" When he received a nod he continued. "You okay?"

"So far."

"Got a line on where the sniper's at?"

"No."

"Shot placements?"

Don pointed at the three marks in the concrete around him.

"We've got a helo coming in. We'll find him."

As the officer finished speaking Don's cell rang.

"_He backs off now."_ Four spoke before Don could get a word out.

"He's gone, he's gone!" At the frantic wave of the agent's arm the LAPD officer quickly made for the nearest roadway. "He was just telling me they've got everyone out."

"_That was the last warning."_ The cell went dead.

Don took a deep breath in relief. Despite his displeasure at the officer the sniper seemingly hadn't actually considered the LAPD supervisor to have come too close. Looking around he watched as two officers stationed themselves in the entrances of buildings that had already either opened for early business or had staff inside. Standard procedure dictated that no evacuation be attempted, it was safer to keep people contained inside the building rather then bring them out into the line of fire.

With that all movement ceased and Don really was alone.

-100-1-10110-1001-100-

Having finished setting things in motion to comply with both the sniper's orders and Don's, David was finally able to brief up and had obtained authority to negotiate. There was one more call he had to make. He dialled the cell number and waited. The professor wasn't at the Field Office having an early lecture at CalSci.

"_Charlie Eppes."_

"Charlie, it's David."

"_You got a hit already?"_ The professor sounded excited, not expecting a call this early.

"Uh, no. Charlie, it's Don. He's in trouble." David went on to explain the situation as he understood it.

"_I'm on my way."_

"Nah, uh! No way, Charlie. Not after what happened last time there was a sniper. Your brother would have my head this time for sure."

"_But David, I need to be there to calculate the sniper's location."_

"Absolutely not. Go to the office. Once we've set up the link you'll see what we see. You'll have to work with that from there." David was going to be firm on this point, no way was he backing down.

"_I'll stay with you,"_ Charlie tried again. _"I won't cross the lines."_

"Charlie, we have to be inside the line. He wants to be able to see us."

"_Oh." _There was silence as the professor thought that over._ "David, that's not good."_

"Tell me about it." David replied. "But I've got no choice. You do. Stay put at the office and I'll link you in. We're going to need your help."

"_Okay. I'll call on the link as soon as I'm at the office."_ Charlie gave in.

As he finished the call the Mobile Command Centre truck pulled to a stop, double parking beside his car that was now out the front of the US Bank Tower. David climbed up and the truck proceeded towards the outer cordon, barely half a block away and one block over from the square. The officers on duty noted the markings on the truck and pulled the barriers aside allowing the vehicle entry. It was a different story at the inner cordon, here no attempt was made to make way for the truck.

A uniformed officer approached the passenger side, rightly assuming that the senior agent wasn't the one driving. "Supervisor McGarry."

"Special Agent David Sinclair." He reached down and shook the officer's extended hand. "We have to go through to set up."

"That's inside the cordon, Agent. We can make space for you here."

"The sniper says we have to be inside the cordon."

"Not sure I like the sound of that." The grey haired officer commented.

"You and me both, but that's the instruction. Everything else he's demanded has been what we would do anyway. This is something that he wants. We have to start this off on the right foot."

"Your call." He'd been advised that the FBI were running the show, which suited him just fine. Especially if they were going to comply with the sniper's order and put themselves inside the inner cordon. He waved his hand at the officers manning the barricade and they were immediately pulled aside.

The truck moved through at a speed just barely approaching walking pace. They were taking pains to ensure the sniper would not think they were undertaking a rescue attempt. They rolled a little further then stopped at the very edge of the area David suspected the sniper meant. The less distance from safety the better if they needed to retreat in a hurry. Fortunately the design of the vehicle alleviated the need for David or the driver to expose themselves as they climbed through to the rear of the truck to set up the equipment. Due to their risky position David had asked for only one volunteer to help run things.

There was a knock on the door at the rear of the truck and David peered through the heavily tinted glass panel to see the LAPD supervisor. Surprised that the officer had followed them through into the danger zone he quickly opened the door to let him in. The truck wasn't bullet proof but what the sniper couldn't see he couldn't hit.

"I've spoken to your man." McGarry said as he climbed up. "He's shown me the three shots that have been fired so far. Where's the blueprint for the square?"

"Here." David pulled the sheet from the tube and used magnets to mount the large scale drawing on the white board opposite the banks of monitors and recording equipment. As the officer moved in the agent also drew out and mounted a smaller scale drawing showing the square and surrounding buildings two blocks out in every direction. The drawings had been printed out from a database maintained by the FBI.

McGarry looked the larger blueprint over for a moment relating it to what he seen in the square a short time earlier. He tapped a spot almost dead centre. "He's here. The shots hit the pavement here, here and here."

Grabbing a Chinagraph wax pencil David quickly marked the spots on the laminated drawing. Referring to the other smaller scale blueprint he eyed off the surrounding buildings, reading the elevations marked next to each. He drew a few arcs trying to figure the possible lines of fire that could have resulted in the shot placements indicated. The arcs were too large and vague; there was too much real estate.

There was a sudden roaring sound and David automatically looked upwards as he realised what it meant. A helicopter was moving in overhead.

"That should be our helo." McGarry identified, it had been on the list of items requested by the FBI. He pulled his radio from his belt and put out a call.

"_Tango Three to Sierra One." _ The pilot responded. _"In position now. Instructions?"_

David took the offered radio as they were still in the process of setting up their own. "Tango Three, this is FBI. Increase altitude, you're too low. Start with the roof tops in an arc from the intersection of Olive and 5th around to 6th and Hill."

"_That's a large area, FBI." _

"We can't narrow it down any further at this time." David responded, well aware that it was an area surrounding half the square. That was just for starters, concentrating only on the most probable zone. His arcs could easily extend even further afield, given individual building heights, or at a greater angle.

"_Understood."_ The sound of the helicopter faded a little as it gained altitude and started its sweep. _"Will advise if we spot any targets."_

"We're live on the LAPD channel, Agent Sinclair." Agent Sommers reported. "Directional mics also up and running." A hiss sounded from the speakers as he turned up the gain.

David returned the portable radio to the LAPD supervisor as it was no longer required. He looked over at the monitors and saw them winking into life, responding to the cameras mounted on the roof of the truck. Unfortunately they didn't seem to have an angle on Don. Unable to enter the area to set up a portable wireless camera they were going to have to work on an alternative, perhaps they could tap into a surveillance camera. Most squares had at least a couple of cameras hooked into a central monitoring centre run by the city council with a feed to LAPD. If not, there should be a traffic camera that they could access. He was checking over the markings on the blueprint for the best option when his cell phone rang. "Sinclair."

"_Unless you want me to start taking pot-shots at both Eppes and the helicopter you'd better send it away."_

Negotiations were not starting off as calmly as he'd hoped. Whilst he didn't recognise the voice it could only be the sniper. "Who am I talking to?"

The response was not one he'd expected, the sniper simply hung up. There was the sound of a shot, clear even over the searching helicopter. At the same moment there was a shout from the square, the sound carried to the speakers inside the truck by the directional microphones.

David snatched at the radio handset hanging on the wall. "Tango Three, FBI. The sniper's just shot at our agent. Can you see him?"

There was a tense wait for the pilot's reply.

"_He's down."_

.


	5. Chapter 5

_Numb3rs: Crosshairs_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

CHAPTER FIVE

-100-1-10110-1001-100-

In the relative safety of his Mobile Command Centre David could only stare at the useless monitors in shock. He couldn't believe that the sniper had taken out his boss. Had that been the sniper's intention all along, get them all here to witness Don's execution?

"_No, stand-by."_ The pilot of Tango Three suddenly amended. _"Looks like he's getting up."_

The three men in the truck looked at each other in relief but none felt it more so than David. Not long ago he'd promised Alan he'd keep Don safe, just because that case was over he felt no less responsible. He was going to do his damnedest to get Don out of this situation. The pilot's first words had nearly caused a heart attack. "Tango Three, we have to call you off. That was a warning from the sniper."

"_Roger that, FBI. We'll download our footage to your office but we've got nothing to report." _

David understood that. The noise of the machine would have prevented its crew from hearing the shot just as daylight prevented them from seeing any telltale muzzle-flash. There were also too many structures on top of most buildings which could give possible cover to a man with a rifle. Maybe something would show on the footage but David thought it unlikely for the exact same reasons.

"Thanks anyway. FBI clear." The sound of the helicopter was already fading. Due to the risk to the agent they were not wasting time departing the area.

"_Tango Three returning to base. Good luck, FBI."_

Hanging up the handset David was suddenly aware that his hand was shaking, it had been too close. Using the truck's phone line, he had to keep his cell free, he called Don's phone. The call connected to the sound of a grunt and a deep breath before the voice he'd hoped to hear.

"_Eppes."_

"Don! Are you-?"

"_I'm okay, David."_ Don interrupted. There were the sounds of movement then another grunt. _"It was a ricochet or piece of concrete. Got me in the leg. Scared the hell out of me but doesn't look too bad."_

"Scared the hell out of me too, Don." David didn't mind admitting. "I'll try to get a medic out to you."

"_No. I don't want anyone else out in the open. One hostage is enough. I always knew there was a reason they made us wear ties."_ Another pause. _"I guess he didn't like the chopper, huh?"_

"Not even a little bit."

"_Should've expected that."_

There was no tone of accusation in Don's voice, the move had been straight out of the playbook but David winced all the same. "Yeah. Sorry, I-"

"_Nothing to be sorry for, David."_ Don again interrupted. _"You have to follow the book. What does Four want?"_

For a moment David was confused at the 'Four' before remembering his boss had numbered the AK-47s during the robbery. Four was the oldest member of the crew. Picturing the bearded face from the driver's licence helped somewhat, the sniper was no longer some faceless enemy. "Nothing yet. He only called to order the chopper away."

"_Hunh. Alright. Keep me updated."_

"You sure you're okay?"

"_A little hot and sore but I'll live."_

David looked out at the waves of heat already rising off the roadway around them causing ripples in the camera images. Today was going to be hotter than the day before. It just showed how screwed up their luck was to have Don stuck out in the middle of a concrete square during what was already a record breaking spring heatwave. "I'll try to get some water to you, somehow."

"_That'd be nice."_

There was the shrill sound of a cell ringing. "That's probably him."

"_Get back to work."_ Don hung up.

David pressed the green button on his cell. "Special Agent Sinclair."

"_I know who you are."_ The sniper snapped back.

"But I don't know who you are. What's your name?"

"_Jack will do fine."_

"Jack it is. I want to send someone in to check on Agent Eppes." Despite Don's orders David made the request, it would also be a way of getting the agent some water.

"_No. You've spoken to him so you know he's fine." _The sniper said.

Concerned this meant Jack had his own directional mic set up David asked, "How did-?"

"_Come on, Fed. I saw him on the phone. I doubt he'd be checking on his drycleaning."_

"Alright. But I want to get some water to him, it's hot out there."

"_Yes, it is isn't it?"_ There was no trace of sympathy in the voice. _"No water. Consider it motivational, the sooner you give me what I want the sooner he'll be out of the heat."_

Inwardly fuming at Jack's callous attitude David kept his voice calm, basic 'Hostage Negotiation 101' style. "So why are we here, Jack?"

"_I want Scott Nelson released from the La Tuna Federal Corrections Facility in New Mexico."_

The name was vaguely familiar. The New Mexico angle suggested it was someone from Don's past. David scribbled the name on a pad and handed it to Sommers to start running checks. When they had a moment to breathe they would link the cell phone into the truck's systems and they would both be able to hear the conversation making such notes unnecessary.

"So who's this Scott Nelson to you?"

"_Just get him released and brought here."_

"I can't just pull an inmate out of a federal jail." David protested.

"_Then I'll just shoot Eppes and have done with it."_

Now it was David's turn to hear the weapon being readied over the phone. "No! Look, I'll send it up the line. To get what you want I'll have to go through the Director."

"_Take all the time you need, I'm not going anywhere. Neither's Eppes."_ The sniper added pointedly before disconnecting the call.

The LAPD supervisor stepped up as David handed his cell over to Sommers to be hooked up. "What's he want?"

"A prisoner released."

"Anyone special?"

"Not sure, I think it is someone Don knows."

"That makes sense." McGarry handed over a card. "Here, that's got my cell on it. You've got our radio channel. I better head back to manage our side of the scene. You need anything you call."

"Yeah, thanks." The light touch of the other man's hand on his shoulder as he left told David that the officer cared as much about getting Don out of this mess as he did. There was just less that he could do about it than the FBI agent.

Sommers reached for the truck's phone handset. "You want the ADIC?"

"No. I'll call Don first." He saw the check still running on Sommer's screen. "He might be able to tell us who this Nelson character is quicker than that."

-100-1111-1110-

Sweltering in the middle of the square Don finished tying the ends of his tie together. The deep wound in his lower calf muscle was painful and messy but not too serious. From the looks of the jagged edges he suspected it was mostly likely a chip of concrete that had caused the damage rather than the ricochet that he'd suspected earlier. Pulling his trouser leg back down over the makeshift bandage he climbed back to his feet.

Time dragged on as he waited for whatever was to happen next. It was incredibly frustrating as it was next to impossible for him to do anything about his situation. He couldn't even pick up clues from the sniper's body language or even from the way the man held his weapon to assist him. Whilst it was never fun to have a gun pointed at you, if the gunman had been within sight he would have been able to have that little bit more information. At the very least he'd see it coming. With the sniper out of sight the first he would know that the man was shooting was when the bullet hit either the ground, or more worryingly, him. That was what had scared the hell out of him earlier, he'd not expected the sudden pain followed immediately by the sound of the shot. His body had reacted instinctively, falling to the ground before he could assess himself.

His only source of information was his cell phone, either through the sniper directly or through the man whose call he was waiting for now, David. Another five minutes passed before it finally rang. Relieved at the name that flashed on the screen he lifted the phone to his ear.

"_How're you doing, boss?"_

"Working on my tan. What does Four want?"

"_He's calling himself Jack. He wants a Scott Nelson released from jail in New Mexico."_

Everything clicked into place. The voice that was so familiar in the bank, the whole 'we need to talk' thing. It was exactly what Nelson's friend had said that night on the track. He also remembered the hunting rifle with an expensive sniper scope that Jack had been aiming right at him. 'Four' was Jack.

"_Don?"_

"Yeah, David. I'm here. I know them, both of them."

"_Who are they? We're running a search but not getting much yet."_

"Remember the plane crash on Mt Taylor?"

The FBI jet had crashed not long after takeoff from Albuquerque bound for LA carrying both Don and in his custody the witness, Scott Nelson. After the crash Nelson had taken the agent's weapon and threatened to use him to ensure his escape if cornered. After one close call during a traffic stop Nelson had released him at a hospital in Albuquerque. There'd been a brief respite while his injuries had been treated before Alan and Charlie had arrived and they'd all been taken to a hotel. It was there that he'd ended up being threatened by two bent LAPD detectives chasing Nelson in order to silence the witness. Nelson had later surrendered to him at a local shopping mall.

"_You were escorting a reluctant witness,"_ David trailed off obviously recalling some of what Don had told him about the incident a year or so before. _"That was Nelson."_

"Yes. He ended up in jail in New Mexico." Despite all that had happened, Don still didn't think too badly of Nelson. Somewhat peeved perhaps that Nelson hadn't properly warned him about the two detectives that later held him at gunpoint. But that was about it, the man had still saved his life back on the mountain, getting him out of the plane wreck when he hadn't needed to. The threats to use him as a hostage had only happened after Nelson had time to think about what benefits having the agent with him could offer. In fact, back then, Don had come to the conclusion that they could have easily been friends if things had been different. Despite being a felon there was a decency that had made Nelson likeable.

"_So who's this Jack? Not another crooked cop that still wants to whack Nelson?"_

"No, he's Nelson's friend. He collected us from the mountain and drove us into Albuquerque. Back then he had a hunting rifle and scope." At the time the older man had been a little uneasy holding his weapon on the agent and Don had interpreted that to mean he would be reluctant to actually use the rifle. Jack no longer seemed to be bothered by that.

A thought occurred and Don took a moment to think it over. He continued, "At the time, Jack was with both of Nelson's sons. About a week after Nelson surrendered the younger son also handed himself in. Neither Jack, nor the older son, Brad were ever caught."

Whilst he had trouble remembering the younger son's name, recalling the other was not as difficult. Not after Brad had twisted Don's broken arm. That had been to ensure his compliance when they'd been stopped by a Sheriff's Department deputy just after they'd left the mountain. He'd always felt that Brad had enjoyed inflicting the pain. As another indicator of Brad's character the young man had not had any qualms about a federal agent being held against his will at gunpoint. At one point he'd even asked his father for the Glock so he could hold it on the agent.

"_So if Jack is one of the AK-47s that means Brad Nelson could be as well."_

He'd already come to that conclusion but was not what had given him pause. Don couldn't help but once again scan the buildings overlooking the square. He felt more exposed than ever. "It also means that if Jack is here, Brad may not be far away."

"_We'll scan the crowds and see if we can pick him out once we've got his picture. What's your read on Jack, both then and now? What do you think he'll do?"_

"He never spoke much back then, I remember he wasn't too happy at Nelson helping me rather than abandoning me on the mountain. He also wasn't too happy at Nelson releasing me. At the bank he seemed to be the one in control and kept Two calm. I'm thinking Two has to be Brad Nelson which explains why he recognised me so quickly.

"As to now? They've had time to think this through since they tried to take me back at the bank, this whole situation has been meticulously planned and flawlessly executed." He thought back to the conversation he'd had with Jack on his cell an hour or so earlier. The sniper had been supremely confident.

"I think Jack is serious. You may have to get Nelson to cooperate and convince Jack he has been released."

There was a slight hesitation before Sinclair spoke again. _"Jack wants Nelson brought here."_

"Then I think I'm in trouble, David."

"_I'm getting onto the ADIC. We'll work something out."_ David reassured him. His voice dropped as he delivered the next piece of bad news. _"I tried for water but Jack's not having it."_

"Smart move." Don could see the advantage of the tactic of using the weather as an additional means of threatening the hostage. Dehydration was just another way to tighten the screws on the FBI to get them to comply with the demands. He was already thirsty and sweating profusely, the square was turning into a solar oven. Heat exhaustion was all too likely. "Just do whatever you have to."

"_Working on it, boss."_

"Whichever way it goes, I'll be ready." Without giving David a chance to reply Don broke the connection.

Assuming it was deliberate, this was another tactic of the sniper's, permitting free communication between the hostage and the negotiators allowed the screws to turn that little bit tighter. If it wasn't deliberate and he hadn't been ordered to throw his cell away because Jack wanted to be able to speak with him it still worked in the sniper's favour. Sure enough the cell rang again.

"Hello, Jack."

"_Good. You remember me now."_ The sniper responded. _"I hope you told your people they better do what I want."_

Don decided to give that the response it deserved. "Where's Brad?"

"_Oh, he's around."_

"This is not going to work."

"_Sinclair seemed to think it was worth persisting with. As I told him, the alternative is for me to shoot you and have done with it."_

"Does Nelson know you're doing this?" Based on what he knew of the man, 'old school' was the phrase used by Albuquerque PD, he doubted it.

"_He's about to find out. He wants out of that jail as badly as we want him out."_

"I'm sure." Don racked his brain for a moment trying to remember the man's sentence. It was a fair bit shorter than what the man could have been given because he had actually helped the agent. "But it is only going to be another six months or so before he's due to be released."

"_He's going to be released today."_ Jack insisted.

Sighing, Don shook his head as the sniper hung up. He shifted slightly as he tried to take weight off his injured leg. The wound may not have been too serious but it was throbbing away as if it were. Inspiration struck and he slowly lowered himself to the hot concrete, using his suit jacket as a barrier between him and the ground. He tensed for a moment wondering if a bullet would be fired to suggest his manoeuvre was not permitted, when nothing happened he relaxed. He could rest his leg and conserve energy at the same time. It looked like he might be in for the long haul on this one.

.


	6. Chapter 6

_Numb3rs: Crosshairs_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_**A/N: **Things are maybe starting to look better._

**CHAPTER SIX**

-11-1111-1100-10-11001-

Colby couldn't help but fidget slightly as he waited at the field office. Now that the sniper's demands were known, it seemed very unlikely that the AK-47s would be committing any robberies today. Subsequently AD Wright had pulled the operation at the banks in favour of resolving the hostage situation. To that end Colby was now waiting in front of a video camera.

"Agent Granger? The prisoner is being brought in now, stand-by."

Colby nodded at the guard whose face filled the monitor in front of him. The video link used by the jail for some of the inmates' court appearances was about to be used to interview one Scott Nelson.

When the man finally arrived and sat at the desk opposite the camera Colby took a moment to compare him to the mugshot open on the computer terminal beside his screen. Nelson had lost a bit of weight since being incarcerated, his face thinner and more angular. He'd read Don's statement whilst waiting for the jail to set the interview up and could see little of the resemblance his boss had noted with Agent King from their SWAT unit. Jail had not agreed with Nelson.

The guard left the room leaving Nelson 'alone' with Colby which meant there was some ground that had to be covered before he could proceed. "Scott Nelson, I'm FBI Special Agent Granger from Los Angeles."

"Special Agent Granger." Nelson returned, his tone surprisingly open given that he'd spent most of the last year in a medium security facility before being moved to the minimum security of La Tuna only recently.

"The guard tells me you've waived the right to have a lawyer present."

"They told me it was urgent and involved Agent Eppes."

"You're aware that this interview is being recorded and may be used as evidence?"

Nelson nodded. "I know my Miranda rights."

Colby nonetheless repeated them asking if the prisoner understood.

Nelson looked directly into the camera, rather than at the screen mounted next to it that would be showing the agent's face. "I already said that I understand my rights. Do I need a lawyer, Agent Granger?"

"Not unless you already know why I'm talking to you."

"In that case, I don't need one. What's this all about? Has something happened to Agent Eppes?"

"He's being held hostage by a sniper here in LA."

Nelson's face took on a concerned expression that turned to puzzlement. "While I'm sorry to hear that I fail to see why you're talking to me."

"The sniper has demanded your release from La Tuna."

Nelson sat back in what appeared to be shock. His eyes widened and abruptly he leant forward, again looking directly into the camera lens. Now his face wore an expression approaching dread. "Who is the sniper?"

"Says his name is Jack."

The eyes closed in relief. "For a moment there I thought you were going to tell me it was my eldest son. He's a bit of a hothead and doesn't much like Agent Eppes."

"We suspect Brad is involved."

"Yes, if Jack's there he would be. But as long as Jack's there he should be able to keep him reined in."

"Tell me about Jack. What's his full name?"

"Jack Carpenter. I've known him since we were kids. He was always into more stuff than me but he's a good man. Also knows his way around a hunting rifle." He added significantly.

"You don't seem too surprised at what they are doing."

"Agent Granger, I see where you're going. Let me get this clear, I'm not part of this. Look, I'm not doing well here, my son and Jack both know that. I'm not cut out for jail. I didn't know they were planning this but I'm not surprised that Brad has worked out some harebrained scheme to get me out. Now, how can I help you?"

"Why would you want to help us?"

"I don't know how you are planning on resolving this, Agent Granger but I would rather it be some way that keeps my friend and my son alive." Nelson said earnestly.

"I'm afraid that may not be as easy as it sounds. Do you know what they've been up to whilst they've been on the run?"

"I've spoken to them on the phone from time to time but that's it. They don't say too much, they know the lines are recorded." The eyes narrowed. "What have they being doing?"

"You've heard of the AK-47s?" The news reports were national and even inmates in jail had access to television. He saw the man's mouth drop open on the screen.

"You're telling me that-" Nelson cut himself off, vigorously shaking his head in the negative. "They've killed people. Brad and Jack would never be a part of that."

"I'm sorry Mr Nelson but we have a positive identification that both of them are part of it. We believe they may actually be running the show."

The prisoner visibly deflated. Despite his protestations Colby got the impression he could believe what he'd just been told. Nelson sank back, still shaking his head. Finally he looked back up. "Jack's the one you've been in contact with?"

"That's right."

"Let me speak to him."

Colby stiffened slightly. "Is that a demand?" That had been one of their concerns whilst setting up this interview. It had been suggested that the mastermind was Nelson himself and that once he was aware that Don was under the gun he would start making demands directly. For this reason Colby's line of questioning had been designed to provide information to the prisoner in order to gauge his reactions.

Nelson's hands came up. "No! I don't want any part of what they're doing, not like that."

"Like what then?"

"If there is something I can do to help then let me do it. Agent Eppes is in this mess because of me. It wasn't fair what I did to him last year, this is even worse. I want to undo it."

Colby stared at the monitor a while, trying to read the prisoner's face for signs of deception. He didn't see any and felt the man really did want to help. He raised his eyes and looked up over the top of the monitor at the man standing out of camera shot. ADIC Wright had been watching his own monitor. He nodded then signed the papers in his hand leaving them on the desk before he left the room. Everything was already in place, authority granted all the way up the line. All had hinged on Wright's final approval for it to be set in motion.

"How soon can you be ready to move?" Colby asked, returning his attention to the prisoner.

Nelson looked worried and resigned at the same time. "You're moving me to max?"

"No, LA."

-100-1-10110-1001-100-

Nelson was in transit, which was something good that David could tell Jack the next time he called. The phone the sniper was using had so far proven untraceable. Each attempt had only returned a changing multi-digit number that didn't help them much at all. The tech suggested some sort of device being used to cloak the phone's ID. Regardless of what it was the bottom line was that unless the sniper gave them his number they weren't able to call him to give him the update. So far David had not had the chance to ask for the number, the sniper hanging up at the end of every brief conversation. That was most likely to avoid triangulation.

There was nothing more they could do for now except watch as the heat shimmers became more pronounced as the sun moved closer to the top of the sky. They'd tracked down a camera that had an angle on the centre of the square and they could see Don sitting on his folded suit jacket. His head was bowed as the sun beat down on him mercilessly. He'd been out there close on four hours now. From their own cameras now aimed at the crowd held back at the outer cordon he knew Don was in serious danger of heat stroke, a number of civilians had already collapsed and had been taken away by paramedics.

Movement on a screen caught his attention and he turned to see Don pulling his jacket out from under him and unfolding it. Curious he watched as his boss put the jacket over his head, arranging the sleeves so that they shielded his arms. It wasn't much in the way of shade but it was better than nothing. Don suddenly froze, it wasn't the motionless pose he'd held moments before, no this was watchful, wary. After a few moments he relaxed and his head bowed again.

David suddenly understood that Don had been waiting for a shot. He would have been worried that by placing his jacket over his head the sniper could have thought his view of his hostage would be obstructed. Obviously the sniper wasn't too concerned, his target was still readily visible and exposed.

There was a beep in his ear then,_ "David?"_

"Yeah Charlie?" The professor's voice over their link hadn't sounded hopeful as if he'd found something.

"_How is he?"_

"About as well as can be expected." David answered. Once they'd finished setting up their links to the office they'd not patched the camera footage through, well, not to the office that Charlie was working in. If the worst happened he didn't want Charlie to see. Don's brother had seemed to understand, not demanding that particular link even though he'd known they had it. "He's using his jacket as shade."

"_Good."_

Not so good. David thought Don should have thought of it earlier, but then again that concrete under him had to have been hot so perhaps that explained it.

"_I'd like to speak to him."_ Charlie ventured. _"Can I call his cell?"_

"Ah, I'd rather you didn't Charlie. He needs to keep as much charge on it as possible so we can talk to him."

"_And so the sniper can talk to him."_

"Yes, the sniper as well." David had to admit. He thought a moment longer. "Listen, I was about to call him to touch base and tell him the news about Nelson. I can't give you the line but you can listen in."

"_That would be great."_

David glanced at Sommers and the other agent made the appropriate selections on his console giving a thumbs up when ready. David covered up his headset mic so Charlie wouldn't hear his next order. "If something happens, cut him straight out." Sommers nodded.

"_Eppes."_ The senior agent's voice sounded tired and a little rough.

"Don, its David. Charlie's listening in on the link but can't talk."

"_Hey, Charlie."_

David asked Charlie's question. "How are you holding up?"

"_If you could find some way of turning that damned fountain off I'd be doing better."_ That comment had a bit more animation to it.

"Sure." The fountain surrounded by a large pond was only a short distance away. The sounds of the water splashing would be torture to a man with no water. Don had been trying to make a joke of it but David would do his best. "I've got news, just in case Jack calls you next. We've spoken to Nelson and he's offered to help. He's on a jet heading to LA as we speak and will be here in just under two hours."

"_I'll be here waiting. Got nothing else to do."_

There was a strangled half gasp in his ear as Charlie reacted to that comment. "Not too sure that Charlie finds that too comforting."

"_Sorry, Charlie."_

"Alright Don. Just relax and I'll keep working on getting you some water."

"_Thanks, David." _The senior agent's voice had returned to the listless tone he'd started with before he broke the connection. The heat was obviously getting to him.

"Charlie? How are you going on your end?" David asked.

The professor took a moment to gather himself before responding. When he spoke he sounded firmly in lecture mode. _"The LAPD footage gave us nothing. I've identified the ammunition with an 87% degree of accuracy based on the sound bite you sent me. From that I've narrowed down the type of rifle to about four. I'm working with your sound archive to try to determine the most probable. For the moment all I can tell you is that each has a different range and sight characteristics. The profile could easily be changed with a custom sight. There are at least seventeen buildings at this time that suit the impact areas identified by the LAPD officer. I've started using a-"_

He had to interrupt before the math started, reading between the lines the professor didn't have anything that could help them yet. He made that statement then added, "Just keep working on it Charlie. I'm not sorry to say that I hope we don't get any more data for you."

"_I don't want any more data, David." _There was another beep as Charlie cut himself out.

It would have to be the first time the mathematician had not wanted additional data to work with. They would all be happy if no more shots were fired. David stared at his team leader's motionless form a little longer before pulling his headset off.

"Sir?" Sommers queried as the other agent opened the door.

"I just need a minute." He explained. He stepped down to the pavement and felt the wall of heat pass over him letting him know that their air-conditioning had been successfully holding the heatwave at bay. He moved around the side of the truck furthest from the square and to the best of their calculations sheltered from the sniper's view.

Leaning back against the truck he closed his eyes for a moment. Everything was happening at a snail's pace and there was nothing he could do to resolve the siege any faster. Unconsciously he unscrewed the lid from the bottle of water he'd snagged on the way out. It was on its way to his lips when he hesitated considering what he was about to do. He shook his head and drank a few mouthfuls, denying himself because of the guilt he felt wouldn't help Don at all.

The door at the back of the truck opened and Sommers could be heard calling out, "Agent Sinclair?"

"Coming."

He was handed his headset. "Jack's on the line."

"Sinclair." David identified as he settled the device in place.

"_Next time you catch a break outside, take your cell. I don't like waiting on feds."_

Gritting his teeth he recalled more of his 'Hostage Negotiation 101' training. "Sorry."

"_Hope you enjoyed your drink, Eppes don't look so good."_

David did not like the sound of that for a couple of reasons. The only way the sniper could have known exactly what David had been doing was if he'd been watching him. Their vague arcs had not extended anywhere near where the sniper had to be to have seen David drinking. He put that aside and got back to the matter at hand. "No thanks to you."

Maddeningly that seemed to cheer the sniper. _"Yep."_

"What do you want?" Hoping there was a reason to the call rather than to gloat.

"_I want to know where you are up to."_

Now that the moment was here it felt like a capitulation and he found himself a little reluctant. He factored in a little extra time to be safe. "Nelson is being brought to LA as we speak. He'll be here in a few hours."

"_Good."_

"Okay, we're doing what you want, I want something in return."

"_I already told you-"_

"He's no use to you if he collapses from heat stroke." David interrupted quickly in order to drive his point home before the sniper could hang up. "He can't obey orders if he's incoherent or unconscious. Let me send him some water."

The silence from the sniper's end stretched out before the call was terminated.

Unbeknownst to him the sound David's fist made as it struck the counter top inside the truck was heard by the officers manning the barricade, making more than one hand jerk towards a holstered weapon. Sommers near jumped out of his skin but felt just as frustrated and angry. There was no movement from Don so the sniper hadn't hung up to talk to him. David was just finding voice to start swearing when the cell rang.

"_One bottle only. Nothing else."_ Jack said without preamble. _"Have the fed that was with Eppes take it out to him. But not too close, he'll have to toss it the last few yards."_

It took an effort to have his voice sound calm. "Thank-you."

"_I'll call when Nelson gets here. Maybe Eppes gets another drink then."_

"Wait! Can I have your number in case I need to call you?"

"_Trace not working, huh?"_ Jack sounded pleased. _"Not giving you my cell number. If you want me, get Eppes to raise his hand."_

David didn't waste any time after Jack had hung up. "Get me Agent Curtis."

The inexperienced agent had called in his location once David had arrived on scene so he knew the agent was waiting in the foyer of one of the buildings that had opened early for business and was now on lock-down. Curtis had not wanted to move any further away from his partner than he'd had to. David updated him on the situation and explained Don's condition before relaying the sniper's orders. He then asked if Curtis was prepared to put himself at risk.

"_I'll do anything I can to help, Agent Sinclair."_ Curtis immediately offered. _"There's a shop in here, I'll get him a sport drink then I'll head out." _

"Jack agreed to water." The last thing David wanted to do was to test the sniper's limits. Jack held all the cards.

"_Don't worry, they come in clear now so it'll look just like water. He needs to replace what he's sweated out."_ Curtis explained. Whilst the agent was inexperienced in field work he seemed only too conversant with sport hydration. David wasn't to know that Curtis was a mad keen runner. _"He really needs plain water as well, if Jack allows more later that's what we'll give him then."_

"Alright. Just take it real easy and don't forget, not too close."

"_Got it. You want me to go unarmed?"_

He gave that some thought. "No. He didn't demand that, so no, go as you are."

"_I'll be out in a minute."_

David adjusted one of their roof mounted cameras to aim down the sidewalk along South Olive Street and sure enough Agent Curtis stepped out a minute later. He'd taken off his suit jacket so it would be clear that he was not attempting to hide anything. The young agent then hesitated, lifting his arms away from his body, a large clear bottle held in one hand. Curtis gave it a few seconds before walking slowly out and across the roadway. David panned the camera around, following as Curtis moved past Don's abandoned SUV and vanished from view into the shelter.

.


	7. Chapter 7

_Numb3rs: Crosshairs_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

-100-1111-1110-

"Agent Eppes?"

Once again Don dragged himself out of the half doze he'd been letting himself slip into as the heat became too oppressive. He'd almost been able to convince himself he was sitting in the garden overlooking the koi pond at Charlie's house. It hadn't been long since he'd spoken with David and he supposed he should have been alarmed at how quickly he was zoning out, but at the moment he couldn't find it in himself to care too much. Not for himself anyway, but now someone was calling him, someone that shouldn't be out here with him.

"Sir?"

He raised his head and saw the young agent standing several yards away. "What are you doing here? I told David-"

"Jack said I could bring you this." Curtis jerked one arm and Don's eyes fixated on the bottle of water held in his hand. He bent and placed it on the ground before giving it a solid shove.

It was all Don could do to not lunge out to grab at the bottle before it reached him. The extra split second it took to cross the final yard seemed to drag interminably. He finally snatched it up, the slick coolness from the condensation forming on the bottle was soothing to his hands. He forced himself to stop, but couldn't quite put the bottle back down. "What's the cost of this? He's going to make you stay?"

"No, no cost. Jack agreed to it after he'd been told Nelson was being brought here from New Mexico. He's said he may let you have more once Nelson gets here."

He couldn't wait any longer. He unscrewed the cap and gulped a couple of mouthfuls, relishing the feel as the cold liquid slid down his throat.

"Easy, sir." Curtis warned. "Drink it too fast you might be sick."

Don had already pulled the bottle away from his lips, pressing one hand to the centre of his forehead. "Or get an ice-cream headache." The sudden cold shock had caused his head to pound worse than it had already been from the dehydration.

"Yeah, that too." Curtis agreed. "Make it last, Agent Sinclair said it could be a couple of hours before they get Nelson here."

"He told me." He took another sip as the ice-cream headache started to fade. It may have been his imagination but he could already feel himself reviving. He'd not had the energy to ask before but now, "What's David got planned when Nelson arrives?"

"I don't know, sir. He didn't say."

"Alright. You'd better go before Jack changes his mind." He raised the bottle briefly as if in a toast. "Thanks for this."

"No problem, sir." Curtis started backing up slowly before gaining enough confidence to turn and walk away.

Don gave himself to the moment and rolled the icy cold bottle across his forehead and down his face before resting it on the side of his neck. At that instant he couldn't think of anything else that had felt so good. He took another mouthful, grimacing slightly at the slightly salty/sweet taste of the sport drink, but it was cold and refreshing. Another sip then he resolutely placed the cap back on. Curtis was right, he had to pace himself as he couldn't be sure when or if he would get any more.

He started to place the bottle at his side in the minimal shade afforded by his suit jacket when a sudden thought struck him. Putting it down opened the bottle up to being a target for the sniper if he was a good enough shot. He wouldn't put it past Jack taking pleasure out of shooting the bottle to deny him the remaining contents. Don picked it back up and rested it on his lap.

As time wore on and the sun slowly maintained its path across the sky, no clouds appeared to block the harsh rays that beat down upon him. The temperature continued to rise. Every ten minutes or so he would unscrew the lid of the drink bottle and take a few mouthfuls of the ever warming drink. Far sooner than he would have liked he took the last tepid mouthful and put the bottle down where it would be visible. The fluid had only gone a small way to replacing what he'd already lost and was still loosing. His dehydration headache persisted and he knew he needed more soon. Already he could feel himself starting to wilt.

Once again picturing himself in the shade of the tree overlooking Charlie's prized koi pond he was unprepared for the sudden searing pain that burnt its way across his upper left arm.

-11-1111-1100-10-11001-

Impatiently pacing Colby again checked the large glass windows overlooking the tarmac at LA's domestic air terminal. At long last the bulk of the American Eagle Airline plane could be seen approaching the gate. It was most of an hour later than scheduled and by his watch it was getting on towards 2:30pm.

A last moment delay in the paperwork had threatened to have the whole transfer put at risk. The FBI did not currently have a company aircraft close enough to the jail to assist and they'd had to make arrangements with a commercial carrier. The timing was close but they were going to make it. David was advised and everyone had started to move onto the next step before it had all gone bad. When word of the paperwork snafu reached them American Eagle had stated they weren't going to wait. Several frantic phone calls later the airline had buckled under pressure and delayed the departure of the flight from El Paso until the prisoner could board. That meant a couple hundred disgruntled passengers with their associated loved ones waiting at the terminal shooting dark glances at the FBI agents. Colby didn't care, the alternative had been to attempt to charter a flight and that would have taken more time than they had.

Nikki and the other two agents were likewise less than sympathetic to the looks they were receiving. There must have been something in their expressions, from time to time someone would start to approach as if to make a complaint only to reconsider and turn away. Not many people had patience when it came to delays at airports but wisely those waiting managed to rein it in and confrontations were avoided.

A man appeared at the top of the ramp and waved at the agents, allowing them through the glass doors down the corridor. As the agents escorting the prisoner were to travel unarmed arrangements had been made to allow armed agents to meet them at the door of the aircraft. Another delay as the ramp moved out and stopped flush with the side of the plane. The aircraft door opened and a handcuffed Nelson was already waiting, flanked by the New Mexico agents.

"Agent Granger." Nelson greeted as the group wasted no more time, immediately starting for the terminal.

"Mr Nelson."

"How is he? Agent Eppes, I mean."

"Hanging in there."

"So how is this going to play out?"

"We have some things for you to sign at the Field Office. Your agreement will dictate what happens after that." Colby didn't elaborate further, Robyn was waiting and would explain the terms of the deal they had prepared.

Reaching their vehicles, Colby and Nikki put Nelson in to the back seat of their sedan. The other two agents climbed into the SUV that was to provide protection in case Jack had thoughts of breaking Nelson out en route. As they pulled away from the curb he dragged out his cell and reported in.

"_Agent Sinclair."_ His partner sounded somewhat harried.

"David, its Colby. We've got him and are on the way to the office."

"_Bring him straight here. We can't wait, Don's been shot."_

"What?" Colby almost shouted alarm. "How is he?"

"_We can't tell how bad yet, looks like his arm or shoulder. Colby, it came from a different direction, we have a second shooter. We're on the clock, get Nelson here quick. Robyn's faxing us the forms so you'll have to explain the deal on the way."_

"Okay, David. We're rolling. Nikki, hit it."

Nikki flicked on the lights and siren, mashing the accelerator under her foot to the floor. She glanced back at him via the mirror. "What's happened?"

"Don's been shot. Go straight to the scene." Leaving her to her driving he turned to the man seated beside him in the back seat. "Alright, Mr Nelson, this is the deal. In exchange for your assistance we will reduce your sentence to time already served. That means if you agree to this and cooperate fully you will be completely free, released with no probation period whatsoever." The original custodial sentence had another seven months to run, followed by a two year probationary period during which Nelson would have had various reporting conditions and travel restrictions. This deal removed all of that.

"That sounds very generous. What exactly do you want me to do to earn that?"

"We exchange you for Agent Eppes. You will be carrying a locator beacon and will do what ever it takes to assist us with arresting Jack Carpenter and your son Brad."

"What's to stop me from tossing the beacon and disappearing?"

"Nothing except your honour." Colby had read, and re-read Don's statement and had spoken with Charlie along with a couple of Albuquerque police detectives who knew Nelson. Everything pointed to Nelson having a well developed conscience. AD Wright, the District Attorney and more importantly a federal judge had agreed, hence the deal. "That and the knowledge that you will be free if you cooperate and hounded if you don't."

"They've survived a year on the run so far." Nelson pointed out.

"Yeah, they have." The agent acknowledged. "But the way they are going now they are more likely die in a gun battle with police than stay on the run much longer. You could get caught in the crossfire. At best, as an accessory to any crimes they commit, including today's you will get twenty to life in a maximum security facility. I don't think you want that."

Nelson thought it over. "You want me to put Agent Eppes ahead of my son and my friend. I'm not sure that I can do that."

"You wanted a way that kept them alive and here it is."

David in consultation with AD Wright had come to the conclusion that the only way to save Don was to accede to the sniper's demand. Don's location and the degree of coverage indicated by the sniper meant that it would be impossible for a team to reach and shield the hostage before he could be killed.

Rapid high level talks had taken place one they'd reached that conclusion. The DA's office was only too cooperative. In exchange for releasing a low level prisoner and securing the safety of a federal agent they got a chance at bringing the AK-47s to justice. That was more than worth the breach of their non-negotiation policy. The paperwork had come through in record time and Robyn had hand delivered it to the office where she was now waiting to witness the prisoner's signature.

Charlie had continued working on his part of the puzzle but had still not come up with a possible location for the sniper's nest. It was still the more preferable solution to find and neutralise the sniper themselves rather than release Nelson. But now there was a second shooter. Colby figured it was probably the son, and if he really did have a grudge as Nelson had indicated then the situation had just gotten a whole lot worse. The sooner Don was out of harm's way the better.

It meant that either way Nelson was going in, if they could convince him to wear the beacon and cooperate then so much the better. If not, well it was his photograph that was currently being circulated amongst the agents and police who were flooding into the area surrounding the square. Nelson, Jack and Brad wouldn't get far before they were spotted.

"Say I do this, carry the beacon so you can track us, how are you going to guarantee me that they won't be killed?"

"I'll be honest, we can't make that promise. You know what they have done and what weapons they have. You are the only one that can ensure that they don't die by either convincing them to surrender to us or by delivering them to us in a way that they don't suspect a thing."

Nelson turned away and contemplated the rushing scenery clearly unhappy at what he was being asked to do.

Colby knew all about betrayal and that sometimes it was the only option to achieve the greater good. He let Nelson think for a few minutes before adding a little more. "Last year you put yourself at risk helping Agent Eppes. You could have protected yourself by abandoning him at the crash or killing him later when you no longer needed him but you didn't, you got him to the hospital. You delayed your own escape for someone you didn't even know. Would you really do less for your own son?"

The older man turned back, a flash of anger crossing his face. "Agent Granger, that was uncalled for. I will do anything to save my son's life, _anything_. I'll carry your beacon and you'll get Agent Eppes back. I just hope you and yours will show the same concern for my son that I did for Eppes last year."

"We want to see them brought to justice, Mr Nelson. Not dead."

Nelson favoured him with a long stare before again turning away. Nothing else was said as they continued at high speed into central LA.

Quickly negotiating their way through the barricades they pulled to a stop behind the Mobile Command Centre. Knowing their arrival was being monitored they hustled Nelson into the truck as quickly as they could. Colby immediately worked to remove the prisoner's handcuffs.

"We're not going to have much time for this." David greeted, a sheaf of papers in his hand. The top page was the latest mugshot taken of Nelson this very morning as he was escorted from the jail.

"How's Don?" Colby demanded as Nelson started to scan the forms.

David waved at the monitor showing the lone figure sitting in the centre of the square. "He's told us that he was just winged."

"Why did they do that? They knew we were bringing Nelson."

"A hurry up. Jack called us immediately afterwards promising a shot every half hour until we hand over Nelson." He glanced at his watch and Colby knew that they'd only just made it.

Colby saw Nelson's hand suddenly tense on the pen he was holding at the agent's words. The prisoner stopped reading and flicked to the end of the document and signed his name.

"You understand this?" David asked formally. "Have any threats, promises or inducements been held out to you to make you sign?"

"I understand it. I've signed it of my own free will."

David countersigned and for the next minute or so they went back through the document initialling each page.

"This is your copy." David said when they'd finished, pulling out a section of the bundle. "You understand that we can't let you take it with you. We'll send it to your lawyer."

"Agent Sinclair, its Jack." Sommers handed over the headset, the phone had rung as David separated the documents.

"_He's out here in five minutes or I start shooting."_ Jack ordered. _"We'll see how many rounds Eppes can take."_

At the words coming over the speakers Colby pulled the box from his jacket pocket. Opening it revealed the tracking device that they were going to use. As he set Nelson up he listened to the rest of the call.

"Alright. How do we do this?" David was asking.

"_Scott comes out to the middle of the square. I'll talk to him there."_ There was a click and the call ended.

.


	8. Chapter 8

_Numb3rs: Crosshairs_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_**A/N:** So now we get out of the frying pan and head straight for the fire..._

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

-100-1111-1110-

Once again the shock of the injury had forced Don to the ground, his body reacting instinctively. Sitting back up he assessed himself, peering through the tear in his shirt to see the deep gouge torn through his upper left arm. The wound was nearly three inches long, pinched and white but he knew it was going to be bleeding very messily within a few seconds. Flicking the jacket off his head and shoulders he folded part of it into a pad and pressed it hard against his upper arm just as it started to throb. He flexed his hand and arm and was able to satisfy himself that there had been no serious damage. It had either been a damned good shot or a lucky shot. Wincing slightly he twisted his wrist to check his watch. When he saw the time he realised what had happened, Jack was getting impatient. That meant there were going to be more shots now aimed directly at him and there was nothing he could do but take them.

David's concerned call just confirmed it. The good news was that he'd just heard from Colby that Nelson had landed and was on his way in from the airport. Don had wanted to ask what David was planning but the other agent was obviously under a lot of pressure and had work to do. Don hung up without voicing his question, he had no say in the matter anyway.

Tense now as the time frame diminished he maintained the pressure on his arm as he looked over in the general direction of where David had set up. He couldn't see the command centre but whatever was going to happen would come from that direction. He resisted the urge to check his watch as time dragged on, that would only give the sniper the satisfaction of knowing his target was worried.

He couldn't be sure how much time had passed before he heard sirens approaching then suddenly stop. That had to mean Nelson had arrived on scene. Things were finally about to happen.

He figured that it was about ten minutes later when he saw the figure enter the square. As the man approached Don couldn't help but notice the small bottle he was carrying in one hand. Forcing his attention away from the much needed water he recognised Nelson. The man was thinner than he remembered and had new lines on his face but was still easily identifiable. As the distance closed Don climbed unsteadily to his feet, his head spun but he managed to maintain his balance.

"Agent Eppes." The likable felon said as he stopped a couple of feet away. He held out the bottle, allowing the agent to take it. "Agent Sinclair asked me to give this to you."

It took a moment of fumbling with the cap, his fingers just didn't seem to want to work right, before he could get it off. The water was thankfully cool, not cold and was gone in seconds. "Thank-you."

He then took half a step back in reflex as Nelson moved in. He staggered slightly as another bout of dizziness passed over him. A hand on his uninjured arm steadied him.

"Let me look." Nelson was reaching for his wounded arm, by taking the bottle of water Don had dropped the jacket subsequently exposing the wound. He allowed the attention, it was not the first time that Nelson had taken care of his injuries. "Looks like you stopped the bleeding."

"It was just a scratch." Don stated, downplaying the injury even as the amount of drying red blood on his sleeve indicated otherwise.

"You were lucky."

"I hope not." That would have meant the shot had been intended to hit him elsewhere and that was not a pleasant thought. "So, what's the deal?"

"I think that's Jack now." Nelson offered as the agent's cell started ringing.

Cutting out the middleman, himself, Don handed over his phone.

"Jack, what are you doing?" Nelson started as he answered the call. "I can see that, but this is not what I wanted. … Where's Brad? … With you? He's a part of this? … He did what? No, no more, he could have seriously injured him. I'm here now. It's time to let him go. … What? That's not-"

Don looked on with an increasing feeling of dread as Nelson paced away and dropped his voice. He could only watch as Nelson appeared to argue with Jack before his shoulders dropped slightly indicating reluctant agreement. The man listened a moment longer before dialling a number into the cell. He then snapped the phone closed and pocketed it.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" Don asked as Nelson returned.

"No. They want me to take you with me."

"I thought that might be the case. They pack this up and you drive away there is nothing to stop us going after you."

"That's what Jack said. I need to take that." Nelson sounded apologetic as he made a quick gesture.

Don looked down, although he hadn't needed to, he knew exactly what Nelson meant. He sighed, they were going back to where they'd been a year ago. He lifted his right arm away from his side and made no effort to resist as the Glock was taken from his holster and checked. He was too weak to fight Nelson off anyway, even if he wasn't concerned about the sniper. Don turned slightly to his left where he could still see his SUV through the ornamental trees. Now he understood the reason behind Jack's early orders. "My car?"

"Let's go."

Don couldn't help but be a little hesitant as he started to walk, every other time he'd made a move he'd been shot at. He knew it wasn't going to happen now that Nelson had taken his gun but it still took a few steps before he relaxed.

"You've busted your leg again?" Nelson suddenly asked.

His calf was stiff and sore causing him to limp slightly. That and the effects of the heat were making walking a little difficult. "Nah. Stone chip from one of Jack's pot-shots."

"I'm sorry about all this, Agent Eppes. I'm going to get you out but you're going to have to bear with me." There was no response so he continued. "I've made a deal with your people."

"Oh? What kind of deal?"

"I wear a tracker and help them catch Jack and my son."

They'd reached the trees. Don stopped, catching his balance on a tree and regarded the other man. Last time he'd dealt with Nelson both his sons were on the run with Jack. At the time Nelson had tried to make a deal that they would be allowed to go free in return for his surrender. Now he was free he was going to turn his friend and son in? "Why would you do that?"

Nelson made a slight lift of his hand holding the gun indicating that Don should keep moving. "I don't want them killed. I've got to try to get them to hand themselves in before your people or the cops catch up with them."

"What about the other two?"

"I don't care about them."

It didn't really matter, if the other two men were with Jack and Brad and they were all talked into surrendering by Nelson then well and good. If they just got Jack and Brad they would be able to sweat them for the identity of the other two and proceed from there.

They were just about at the SUV when he was suddenly grabbed from behind. He gasped in pain and surprise as Nelson's arm wrapped around his shoulders, compressing his wound. Nelson's right arm appeared in his peripheral vision, raised up to shoulder height with the Glock pointed slightly off to the right. The agent looked over and recognised the man approaching them.

"Stay back." Nelson shouted.

"Drop the gun!" Curtis ordered, still moving forward.

Nelson slowly started moving them sideways, closer to the SUV in an attempt to put it between them and the approaching agent. "I don't want to hurt anyone." Nelson said into his hostage's ear.

Don understood. Nelson had to get out of here if he was to have any chance at bringing in Jack or Brad. He'd not been comfortable threatening the agent a year ago, just as he was not comfortable with doing it now. But it was clear that he considered the loss of his comfort a small price to pay if he achieved his goal.

"Curtis, stop!" Don ordered, putting as much command into his voice as he could.

His order was sufficiently forceful but wasn't what stopped the other agent, the bullet striking the asphalt inches in front of him achieved that. Curtis dodged and that saved his life. A second round hit a ground a few feet away after passing through the space Curtis had occupied an instant earlier.

"Get out of there!" Don yelled desperately.

With no cover the junior agent had no choice. He started running, spurred on by another shot that once again just missed. Don was under no illusion that the shots were designed to miss, they weren't. The rounds only went wild because Curtis was moving quickly, ducking and weaving as he headed back the way he came. He managed to reach the safety of the building and duck inside. One last round followed the junior agent into the building, shattering the glass door before the shots stopped.

"We'd better get out of here before someone else tries that." Nelson suggested, pushing Don towards the driver's door.

It was an effort but Don managed to climb up and take his spot in the driver's seat. Spurred on by self preservation he left his door open and after fumbling at the key started the engine, switching the air-conditioning to maximum. He'd thought it hot in the square, the heat in the black SUV was unbelievable. Only the threat of the sniper prevented Don from jumping back out. He slumped back in his seat, he couldn't handle any more heat, not now. What little strength he'd regained from the water and the adrenalin hit moments before now drained out of him.

Nelson climbed into the passenger seat and after reaching for his door also left it open. He looked over at his hostage in concern. The agent's skin was pale and clammy and he was panting shallowly, eyes closed. "Agent, you alright?"

"Too hot."

Nelson reached for window controls and lowered the rear windows to enable the heat to escape faster. "Do you have any water in this thing?"

"Back seat." They'd been intending to join the stakeout after the meet with the informant this morning. To that end Don had stocked the suburban with several bottles of water and some snacks to last them the day just in case they were unable to leave the car to purchase something. Given the day's forecast he'd even planned ahead and brought along a cooler and some ice into which he'd placed the water.

The bottle that was placed into his hand a moment later was miraculously still cool, the lid already off. It went the same way as the bottle Nelson had given him earlier. Something cool and wet was pressed against his forehead. He saw that it was the rag from the door pocket that Nelson must have soaked in the melted ice from the cooler. He rubbed it over his face and neck, revelling in the comparative coolness. It was taken back from him and returned a moment later, having been resoaked. This time he pressed it against the back of his neck. He hadn't realised his cell had rung until Nelson started talking.

"We just need a minute. He's in bad shape and this car's an oven." Nelson reported. He listened a moment longer. "Okay. Here."

Don opened his eyes briefly as Nelson's hand brushed his arm. Frowning he took the cell as Nelson reached into the back of the SUV again. "Eppes."

"_Call Sinclair. You're going out through the roadblock next to him. He lets you through or we start shooting."_

Don struggled to process the rapid fire words. He forced his brain into gear, there was confirmation in what the sniper had just said to a comment Nelson had made earlier into the phone. "We?"

"_Yes, we. We've got the entire square covered. You might want to remind Sinclair that he's in our sights."_

"You promised he wouldn't be a target."

"_If he does what he's told he won't be."_ Jack responded harshly. _"Now get moving."_

A cool breath of air played across his face. Opening his eyes again he saw that Nelson had adjusted the vents directing the air towards him. The gas had cycled through the system and cold air was now being pumped into the vehicle. Nelson tested the temperature of the air before closing his door and winding the SUV's windows most of the way up. He held up the item he'd just retrieved. "You want some more?"

Don took the bottle and drank half of it before he suddenly felt bloated. Replacing the cap he put it into the drink holder in front of him. Pulling his own door closed he enjoyed the feeling of the cool air for a moment longer. He could feel himself recovering slightly and his mind clearing.

"Give me that rag." Nelson asked. He re-wet it and handed it back before holding out his hand out for the phone.

"He wants me to call Agent Sinclair."

"Then you'd better do it."

The call was answered immediately._ "Sinclair."_

"David, Don."

"_Don, are you alright? What's going on there?"_

"Curtis?"

"_He's fine, he wasn't hit."_

He breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't think the agent had been hit but it was a relief to be sure. "Good. We're coming through your cordon. You have to clear a path."

"_Taking your gun and taking you with him wasn't part of the deal." _David protested.

"Jack's orders." Don explained. "Nelson's told me he's going to keep the bargain he made with you."

"_Wright's not going to go for this."_

"No choice, David. Jack's making threats against you now. Brad's with him, who knows how far their sightlines extend? It may be just as far as you and the officers at the inner barricade or they may go as far as the civilians at the outer cordon."

"_Okay. I'll clear it."_ David decided after the briefest hesitation. _"What about you, are you in any condition to do this?"_

No, he wasn't. "No choice on that either, David."

"_Don, I could-"_

"No way." He interrupted. He wasn't going to have David swap himself again. He needed to curl up and rest in some nice cold, dark spot somewhere but he wasn't going to have anyone else at risk just so he could feel better. He had water and he had air-conditioning. He could do this. "We're coming."

Giving the cell back to Nelson Don straightened in the seat and stretched, judging the degree of control he had over his body. His coordination seemed to have improved as he reached for his seatbelt and buckled himself in. He put the SUV in gear and tentatively released the brake. They moved forward slowly until they reached the edge of the roadway where he automatically braked in order to look for non-existent traffic. That let him know his reflexes were working reasonably well. With increased confidence he pulled out, turning right and rolling towards the dark blue Mobile Command Centre truck that he could see in the intersection ahead. As he approached he indicated left, making his intentions more than clear.

As he started his slow turn movement at the rear of the truck made him glance to his right, peering around the weapon that was now raised high to point at his head. Despite complaining to Nelson a year ago that he was being held at gunpoint this now was the first time that the older man had ever actually pointed a weapon at him. He noted that the muzzle was shaking slightly, just as it had been whilst pointed at Curtis. Nelson, slumped down in an effort to hide below window level, looked a little wide eyed at what he was doing.

Don looked out the window and saw David standing in the open doorway of the truck staring back at him. Don lifted one hand in a brief wave that had many layers of meaning. David's hand lifted in return, carrying just as much meaning, before he started talking urgently into his headset.

Don returned his attention to the path ahead and saw that it was already clear, officers standing near the barricades that had been pulled aside. Weapons were drawn but no attempt was made to stop them. An officer suddenly moved, he'd shifted and it looked like he tripped or lost his balance. An instant later there was a shot as either Jack or Brad reacted, firing a bullet into the window of the building behind the officer. The result was instant, officers ducking for cover as the SUV moved through.

Reaching the outer cordon the situation was the same, the shot had helped clear the usually reluctant bystanders, the barricades had been dragged aside and officers were taking shelter where they could. Weapons tracked their movement but within seconds they were clear and into the heavy traffic caused by the detours around the blocked streets.

Nelson lowered the Glock, sitting back up to look around. He picked up Don's cell and scrolled through some menus before pressing a button. Don remembered him entering some numbers earlier. It seemed he was dialling it now.

"We're clear." Nelson said when the call connected. "No, I don't know it but I'm sure he will."

Don could do nothing but wait patiently as Nelson obviously received further instructions. Having not yet received any orders himself he simply continued down West 5th Street in pace with the surrounding traffic.

.


	9. Chapter 9

_Numb3rs: Crosshairs_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

**CHAPTER NINE**

-100-1111-1110-

They were moving at little better than a snail's pace as Nelson continued his conversation. They'd not quite reached the nearby freeway by the time Nelson hung up.

"Allied Auto Park on South Spring Street between ah, West 6th and West 5th Streets. You know it?"

"The parking lot, no. But I can find the general address." He took the next right. "Its a few blocks over from the square." He didn't think it was a wise move, heading back towards the area that was flooded with police and probably more than a few agents.

"I didn't want this." Nelson said by way of apology. "But I can't find my way without your help."

Don waved at the device mounted in his dash. "I can program that to take you right there." The GPS unit was on but in map mode only showing the area for a few blocks around them.

"Can it get me there without being stopped?"

"I can't guarantee it." He was thinking that was why both Jack and Brad had been at the square, one could pack up and make his escape whilst the other provided continuing cover to ensure Nelson was away free. He queried Nelson on that.

"Jack's staying in place. He says he has to wait until nightfall to leave so he won't be spotted."

"Then you don't need me any more."

"No, I can't risk it."

With a little difficulty, his coordination was still not what it should be, he manoeuvred the SUV around a double parked car. "So I get you to the parking lot, what then?"

"Brad's going to be waiting there with a car. I'll go with him and we'll leave you behind. You'll have a LoJack or something on this so it shouldn't be long before they find you."

David would have had the tracking system on his SUV activated long before they'd left the square. He expected that there were bureau vehicles shadowing their path already, most likely a block over on parallel roads. David would probably delay ordering an intercept until there was some more distance between them and the square or at the very least until some more time had passed. Instigating another standoff while a sniper remained in place at the square would be counterproductive.

He had to go another couple of blocks before he could turn west due to the one way streets. By now the traffic was thinning somewhat and moving freely allowing their speed to increase. It was less than a mile to the parking lot and he figured it would only take a few minutes to get there. It wouldn't be long now before it was all over.

"Have they told you where they are planning on going from here?" Don asked, he still had a job to do.

"No. Jack's taking it all one step at a time. Can you give me your cell number so I can call you?"

"You've got my cell."

Nelson dropped it into the centre console. "I'm going to leave it with you. I doubt they'd let me take it as it can be tracked."

"Paper and pen in the glove compartment." He waited until Nelson had retrieved the items before giving him his cell number. Jack had his number but Nelson could hardly ask him for it without arousing suspicion.

He slowed and changed lanes as he saw his destination ahead. Turning into the parking structure he was directed up to the third level. Not knowing what he was looking for he slowed to a crawl and worked his way along the rows until Nelson's hand on his arm caused him to stop. Following Nelson's pointed hand he saw set of spaces that had been taped off.

"Park in there."

It was never easy manoeuvring the large vehicle in parking lots, especially the multi-level ones but having several empty spaces together made the job easy even in his less than ideal condition. He even got the SUV almost straight between the lines, the vehicle mostly within one space. The tape he simply drove through. Immediately after pulling on the park brake he grabbed the bottle of water from the drink holder and drained it. He had no idea what was going to happen next, at best he would be restrained and abandoned leaving him no access to water until he was found. When he finished he copied Nelson's move and released his seat belt.

His door was suddenly pulled open and he was yanked out to land sprawling on the concrete. He rolled and clamped his right hand over the bullet wound on his left arm. It was this exact spot that his attacker had grabbed when pulling him out of the SUV. He searched for his attacker and found a figure looming over him. Seeing the way the man was moving he rolled but was not in time to prevent the kick that struck him solidly in the ribs. He started to curl into a ball as Nelson called out.

"Brad, stop!"

"Hey, Dad. We did it." Brad sounded cheerful, no indication he was in the middle of kicking an injured man.

"What are you doing? Leave him alone."

"Just making sure he doesn't try anything, Dad."

The second kick that he believed to be coming never eventuated. Despite that Don felt it a sensible move on his part to stay exactly where he was. He told himself that being unsure whether or not he could move if he wanted to didn't factor into his decision.

"He won't. I told him Jack's still at the square."

"Good, that's what we wanted him to think. Here he is now."

From his position on the ground Don heard some footsteps approaching. A voice he recognised only too well from his cell phone called out. "Hey, Scott. Great to see you at last."

"Jack." Nelson's voice was a little cool.

Don once again dragged his eyes open and saw the three men standing together. Jack, looking somewhat leaner and missing the developing paunch from a year earlier, was wearing a business suit and carrying a briefcase that he was just now placing on the ground. It very likely contained a broken down sniper rifle. The suit was the perfect disguise allowing Jack to move freely in the downtown LA area.

Brad was a little more casually dressed, but very neat all the same and upmarket enough to be able to move in this part of town without suspicion. There was no sign of a rifle, just a large bore semi-automatic handgun, aimed at the agent. Looking at the young man Don realised Brad had changed markedly. A year ago Don had described him as medium build now he'd have to describe him as muscular. Brad had obviously spent some time working out, his shirt stretched tight around his upper arms and across his chest. The black jacket he'd been wearing during the robberies had served to hide his physique quite well.

His face had also changed, taking on a certain hardness that could best be described as dangerous. His weapon was being held rock steady and it was obvious that dealing harshly with a federal agent was not a problem.

"You don't sound too pleased." Jack sounded a little petulant. "We got you out of that jail. You're free."

"Yes, but at what cost?"

"Him?" Brad said, moving his gun slightly as he indicated the prone man. "That was a small price to pay."

"No, not him. Well, yes but not just that. What about the robberies? The people that died?"

"It was their choice." Brad argued back, his voice harsh. "We told them to do as we said. If they didn't then that was their lookout."

"Brad, Jack, what's happened to you? The guns, the killing, it's not like you, either of you."

"We did what we had to do. We needed the money and that was the only way we could get it." Jack put in. He glanced at his watch. "We don't have time for this. Come on, we'd better move. I'll get the stuff."

Jack headed off with Nelson following. "What stuff?"

"We're going to torch the fed's truck. That ought to shut down any GPS trackers he might have."

"They'll find it all the more quickly when the fire alarms go off." Nelson countered. "We've been here a few minutes now, they probably already have the location. Let's just get out of here."

"Fine. Brad, come on."

Don turned his head as Brad approached. From the look on the young man's face he prepared himself for another kick or two as a parting gift. He didn't expect what happened next. Although perhaps, based on the way everything else had gone today he should have.

"On your feet, Fed."

Moving painfully Don slowly rose to unsteady feet, warily keeping an eye on the gun. The muzzle then flicked to one side indicating the path he was expected to take but it wasn't to the right towards his SUV. He was being directed towards their getaway vehicle, a red van parked a few spaces over. When he didn't immediately move he was given a hard shove that sent him stumbling before he tripped and fell a few yards closer to the van. He managed to break his fall and rolled to his side ready to get back to his feet but Brad already loomed over him.

"Get up!"

The young man didn't wait but grabbed at the agent's left arm, once again Don was sure he intentionally targeted the wound. With a firm grip and no visible sign of effort he hauled the agent back to his feet. Don couldn't help the grunt of pain that he made; he was not in any sort of shape for this type of handling.

Brad's gloating voice hissed in his ear. "That was a good shot wasn't it?"

He started to turn his head to respond but another shove had him at the side of the red van before he could say anything. Catching at the door frame to get his balance didn't help him any against the blow between his shoulder blades and he found himself propelled into the van, falling and rolling until he came to a stop against the far wall.

"What are you doing?" Nelson demanded as Don groaned and rolled onto his back.

"Taking him with us, what does it look like?" Brad started to climb in but was pulled back by his father. Jack was already starting the engine.

"No. We're leaving him here. You got what you wanted now we let him go. We don't need him any more."

"Do you know how hard they've been making life for us these last few weeks? If we're going to have any shot of getting out of the city we need him."

So, something had been going right. Don was pleased by that. Their investigations had not seemed to be yielding any real results but now at least he knew they had been having some effect. Their actions had obviously been curtailing the AK-47s to some extent. He could see that their paths had been about to cross within the very short future. At least, that was until Brad and Jack decided to very effectively branch out sideways and play sniper.

"Scott, Brad's right. We need the fed." Jack contributed.

Nelson hesitated, appearing to be considering his friend's point. Brad, impatient, once again started to jump into the back of the van but was again pulled back by his father. "I'll ride with him. They'll be looking for me anyway, they've got my mugshot."

"They don't have ours yet?"

"I didn't see any."

"Heh! They'd be old anyway." Brad sounded pleased as he stepped back, making room. The windowless van would effectively conceal his father as well as their hostage. "Don't go soft on us, Dad. Keep the fed's gun handy. If we get stopped be ready to use it."

"I got him here. I know what to do." Nelson said curtly.

The van moved off, making its way down the levels and onto the street. Don couldn't help but compare it to last time. Back then Nelson had been calling the shots from the front passenger seat, now it was Brad. While Don trusted Nelson to a certain extent he could not say the same about the man's son. He looked up to see Nelson sitting beside him and staring speculatively down at him, clearly he had some idea of the agent's thoughts. Their eyes met for a few seconds before Nelson gave a slight shake of his head and turned away.

Unsure exactly what that meant, he could only lie back and try to conserve his strength.

-100-1-10110-1001-100-

Seeing Don's small wave as he drove past, his own gun at his head, David could only return the gesture before the voice in his headset demanded his attention.

"_No interference. Everything will stay as it is until I hear that they are clear and at the place I want them to be."_ Jack was ordering.

"How can I trust anything you say? You keep changing the rules." David demanded. The SUV had reached the first barricade and was making its way through at a crawl. The sudden shot had David reflexively ducking as the sound of shattered glass reached him. Frantically he looked to see what happened and saw the pieces of glass still falling from the shot out plate glass window on the building at the corner. He saw movement and was relieved not to hear any cries of 'man down' or 'I'm hit'.

"_I could have killed that cop, but I didn't."_ There was a click and the line went dead.

David remained a while longer, watching as the SUV passed through the outer cordon and joined the traffic moving slowly around the scene. He realised he'd lost almost all control of the situation, if ever he'd had it to start with. They had one thing left.

Inside the command centre he found Sommers speaking into his own headset, directing the vehicles they had organised to shadow Don's suburban. The screen showed a map, zoomed out to a two block radius. A red dot with a rim of yellow was steadily moving away, a block either side and a little behind were two blue dots. If he were to zoom the image out he knew he would see several more blue dots keeping pace nearby. If traffic opened up they would move some vehicles in closer to visually tail the SUV. Relying on technology that could so easily be blocked was more than a little stressful. When the SUV was ditched, which he knew would have to be on the cards, they would only have Nelson's yellow dot to follow, assuming that the prisoner kept to his deal.

"He's turned right onto Figueroa." Agent Sommers reported.

"Not the freeway?"

"Definitely Figueroa."

"Where are they going?" David mused. The highway had been the obvious choice, a high speed escape route often used by fleeing criminals to good effect. Don and Nelson had been heading right for the Harbour Freeway just as he'd thought they would.

"Keep following?"

David nodded. "Make sure they stay close."

They stayed glued to the screen as the dot again changed course, turning right onto First Street. Another minute passed and another right turn, now onto Spring Street.

"They're coming back?" Sommers speculated.

There could only be one reason for that, David thought. They were returning to collect at least one, if not both of the snipers. "Bring the pursuit vehicles up as close as they can without being spotted. If something goes down I want them able to respond."

David's hope was to time it to the second, Don released and the snipers together with Nelson but far enough away to not have Don available to them any more.

"Tango One, FBI. Are you in position?" David called into the radio handset. He hadn't heard or seen the helicopter while he'd been outside but then the pilot's orders had been to remain high and in the sun. For the last two hours they'd had a helicopter orbiting in that position, cameras trained on the buildings in what had been a futile move to track the sniper, now snipers. Tango Three had swapped out to refuel a short time earlier.

"_FBI, Tango One returning. We're tracking your vehicle down Spring Street. Appears to be slowing and turning into an above ground parking lot_." The pilot reported.

"_Charlie Two, 7591."_ Their own radio announced. It was one of their vehicles shadowing the SUV. Glancing at the whiteboard David confirmed that Nikki was with this car. He'd split Colby and Nikki up, assigning each to a different vehicle involved in the pursuit. _"Do you want us to follow?"_

"Negative." In such a confined area it wouldn't take too long for it to become obvious that the SUV was being tailed. Whilst in theory Nelson should be expecting it and not react, David was more concerned that one or both of the snipers would be waiting. "Keep the exit under surveillance. I want the tags of each and every vehicle that leaves recorded. Take photographs if you can."

"_7591 received."_

David zoomed the map out and spent the next couple of minutes rearranging their pursuit vehicles in a pattern that would best cover the exit and possible escape routes. As they worked he kept one eye on the twin red/yellow dot waiting for it to separate as he knew it must. Finally it did and the FBI units were placed on stand-by.

"_7591. Vehicle exiting is a red Toyota delivery van, no windows. Two male occupants. Los Angeles tags one-Lima-Alpha-Zulu-seven-six-two."_

David watched as the distance between the yellow and red dots on his screen slowly increased. "Any other possibles?"

"_Negative Charlie Two, no other vehicles exiting."_

He waited a moment longer to be sure on direction. Another glance at the whiteboard and he picked the unit containing Colby. "9214 take up position, acknowledge contact but wait for my go. 7591 enter parking lot and locate Agent Eppes."

There was a tense period where they could do nothing but let it play out, the only interruption 9214 reporting that they were tailing the suspect vehicle. As per David's orders one vehicle was to maintain a visual at all times, three other bureau vehicles were shadowing on parallel streets as before, ready to take over the tail on a random basis. All were prepared to move in and intercept the suspect vehicle when the word was given.

"_Charlie Two, 7591. We've located the SUV, stand-by."_ Nikki reported in a whisper.

Several more anxious minutes passed before her urgent voice was next heard. _"Charlie Two, negative on Agent Eppes, repeat negative. Vehicle is unlocked with the keys in the ignition and engine running. My partner is searching the area but all we've found is a smear of blood on the ground beside the SUV. He's gone."_

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	10. Chapter 10

_Numb3rs: Crosshairs_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

**CHAPTER TEN**

-100-1-10110-1001-100-

Hearing the report from Nikki David had no choice but to order his cars to maintain their tail on the suspect vehicle. With Don still in play they couldn't simply force it to stop and engage the offenders. By tailing it they may get the chance to choose their moment to strike.

There was a beep in his ear indicating someone linking in. _"Agent Sinclair, report."_

It was Wright, he would have been monitoring the situation at the incident room at the field office via the link but obviously wanted it spelled out. "Sir, they've taken Agent Eppes. Nelson's transponder is still working and we are tailing their getaway vehicle."

"_Options?"_

"Hit them now and Agent Eppes will be caught in the crossfire, he would have no chance in a vehicle. If we wait we may get a better solution."

"_Resources?"_

"I have five vehicles involved in the tail, a total of ten agents. I also have a LAPD helicopter following them at high altitude." He'd ordered Nikki's unit, 7591 to temporarily hand over the scene at Don's SUV to the LAPD and rejoin the pursuit. Understanding that the question also referred to what resources he wanted he added, "I would like SWAT to be available once we get a location."

"_SWAT have been authorised and are on standby holding here. Agent King is awaiting a target."_

"Thank-you, sir."

"_Any idea where they are taking him?"_

"They are currently heading west on the 10." David explained but had to make the following admission. "Other than that, no sir."

"_The priority is Agent Eppes' safety. Keep me apprised." _

"Sir." While it had been a case of spelling out the situation David had gained an important piece of information. Don was considered the priority. Whilst that didn't mean they should just let the wanted men escape, if the situation came down to an absolute choice he had his direction spelt out for him. It was what he would have done but it was good to have support from the bosses. They would do whatever it took to get Don out and then worry about taking down the snipers.

"Alright, let's pack this up and head out." David ordered. Sommers was already shutting down the external cameras and microphones. The link would remain up and running as they prepared to leave Pershing Square to head west, following the red van.

"_Turning north on the 605."_ The current lead car reported in his ear.

"Charlie Two received." With the computer shut down David jotted the report down on a clipboard.

Driving through the inner cordon they stopped for a minute as David briefed the LAPD supervisor. The uniform officer still had some work ahead of him, confirming that the square was safe before reopening the area to the public.

"Get your man back, Agent." McGarry said by way of farewell. "You need anything you call us."

Thanking the supervisor they headed out as another progress report came in.

"_Taking the right onto the 210, heading west again."_ It was a different voice, the tailing vehicles having swapped over to avoid detection.

They had made their own way onto the 10, heading west when the call they'd been waiting for came in.

"_Pulling in at the Super 8 Motel, Azusa."_ Colby reported.

"Can you see Don?" David asked.

"_Stand-by. Looks like they're getting out." _There was a pause. _"Got him, they're taking him inside."_

"How is he?"

"_Not too good but moving under his own steam."_

That was a relief, confirmation that Don was still alive. "Okay. We're fifteen minutes out. You're lead until we get there. I want every side of that motel covered. Get someone they won't recognise to get the room number from management. Hold if you can, SWAT are authorised, I'll get them heading in."

A quick call back to the field office and within minutes SWAT reported that they were moving, the delay caused by obtaining the motel's blueprints from their file. Their ETA was twenty-five minutes.

"_Got movement."_ Colby suddenly reported. _"One man returning to the van, looks like Jack. He's leaving, turning south. 8633 and 7591 tail him."_

Almost exactly fifteen minutes later the Mobile Command Centre truck pulled into the rear of a nearby mini-mall, an ideal staging point out of casual sight and blocked from the motel by the mall building. They'd set up and SWAT were pulling in followed by two ambulances when new information was added to the equation.

"_This is 5899."_ Agent Suffolk reported, his voice soft. He was the agent Colby had sent in to obtain the room number. He was staying in the manager's office where he could keep an eye on the door to the room where Don was being held. _"Two men have just entered."_

-100-1111-1110-

Lying on the floor of the van Don had no landmarks to guide him as to where he was being taken. It came as some relief when the van stopped and the door finally opened to find that they were at the back of a motel and not in some remote area. He was certain that a remote area would have meant they were about to kill him, the motel suggested that they were going to continue holding him to ensure their escape as they'd stated. Nelson tucked his gun into his waistband before climbing out. The agent carefully sat up as Brad kept a watchful eye on him from the doorway.

From what he could see the motel was a cheap one, the brick on the rear of the building was old and covered with exposed plumbing. There were no doors along the wall, just a walkway nearby that appeared to go through the building. Don recognised the basic design, parking at the rear of the building and the entrances to the rooms would be from a central courtyard area probably housing a small pool. There were probably hundreds of such hotels throughout the greater LA basin. He had nothing to narrow down his actual location, not recognising the name of the hotel visible on the banding painted around the top of the wall.

"Here, cover up your arm." Brad ordered tossing a jacket at his captive.

Making his stiffening arm work he pulled the jacket on. Jack's suit jacket didn't quite match the trousers he was wearing but it would work well enough to conceal the blood on the sleeve of his shirt. When they made their way towards a motel room they were going to be out in public. Concealing his injury would make the group less noticeable. The incident today would have drawn quite considerable publicity and he was sure that a fair proportion of LA would notice a group of men escorting an injured man. Even though the odds of someone actually reporting what they'd seen were relatively slim due to the type of neighbourhood it was more than reasonable to avoid taking the risk. When he was ready he looked back up at Brad, waiting for instructions.

Brad carefully looked around before reaching under his shirt and pulling out his handgun, holding it down against his leg where it would be less noticeable. "Out."

Moving carefully Don complied. He stopped for a moment, gripping the edge of the door as he worked to keep his balance. The van had been air-conditioned but now he was back out in the heat and he once again found he had no more tolerance for it. A tug on the suit jacket and he had to move back a pace to allow Jack to push the door shut. A chirp and the van was locked.

"Stay real close, Fed." Brad ordered. "Let's go."

Jack then led the way towards the walkway. Don glanced at Nelson as the older man moved off, but he barely returned the look as he turned to follow his friend. A shove against his left shoulder and Don could do nothing but obey. It was taking all his effort to stay upright, he was in no condition to resist even if he could. Brad was almost in contact behind and slightly to the left of him. His proximity both hid the weapon and made its threat all the greater for it. He had no doubt that Brad would use the gun if he felt it necessary.

They were through the walkway and sure enough there was a small pool in the centre of the courtyard, a path around it leading to the doorways of the ground floor rooms. A man was just entering his own room on the opposite side of the courtyard. He didn't notice the group and Don made no attempt to attract his attention. They passed one of several stairways that led up to the next level before reaching a ground floor room with an open door. Brad bumped against his back when he unconsciously slowed forcing him to enter the room. He was given a final shove before Brad turned and closed the door, flipping the deadbolt.

His feet managed not to betray him as he stumbled to a stop in the middle of the room. Looking around Don was not surprised at the basic layout, two double beds, a bench along one wall, bar fridge and two chairs. Slightly out of place was a single cot along the far wall, something that was not standard but usually available on request for an extra guest. A door led off to one side which would be to the en-suite. The most important thing for him at the moment was that the room was cool.

He'd barely taken this in before Brad marched aggressively up to him, weapon raised. The younger man roughly pushed him until his back hit the wall. He was spun and pressed face first against it as a hand at his collar jerked roughly downwards. He twisted first one way and then the other as the jacket was pulled away, hissing in pain as his wounded arm was jostled. Next he identified a hard point against his back as the muzzle of the handgun as Brad's spare hand ran over his body searching him. The handcuff pouch at his back was opened and the cuffs removed before the pouch itself was pulled off his belt along with his ammunition pouch, empty holster and badge. His wallet and ID were taken from his pockets. Finally after running his hand down Don's legs Brad moved back.

The agent started to turn before a heavy blow to the base of his neck sent him crashing to the floor after bouncing off the wall.

"Hey, ease up!" Nelson suddenly protested.

Brad repeated his excuse from the parking garage, "Just making sure he doesn't try anything, Dad."

Groggily Don reached a hand up to rub at the back of his neck but it was grabbed and he saw the flash of his handcuffs out the corner of his eye. A sudden weight pressed him against the floor as Brad knelt on him with one knee. Within a few seconds both of his hands were secured behind him. Brad shifted slightly before a hard blow to his right kidney had Don's back arching in pain. As he gasped for air Brad gave one last hard shove before standing up.

"That's enough, Bradley!" Nelson commanded disapprovingly, a father giving an errant son correction.

Still panting shallowly Don watched as Brad stepped away. Brad obviously finally felt that it was safe to leave him be, even tucking away his gun. That suited Don just fine; if being cuffed reduced future manhandling or more attacks then he could live with that. Besides which the carpet on the floor was not all that uncomfortable and he needed rest especially after the latest assault. As his breathing eased even as the pain in his back didn't, he took more notice of what was happening in the room.

Jack was tugging at his shirt having just completed a quick change of clothes. He grabbed a small bag and then the keys to the van and headed towards the door. "I'm going to ditch the van, then see Ramirez. I'll be back in about two hours."

"Don't give him any more than we agreed." Brad ordered, before locking the door behind him.

"Who is Ramirez?" Nelson demanded.

"He's going to get us out of LA. Here, I got you some new clothes. You'll need them in the morning." Brad held out another bag.

Nelson took the bag favouring his son with what Don considered an odd look. He opened the zip and had a quick look at the contents. "How are we getting out of here?"

"Ramirez has got a boat, we'll leave for Mexico early in the morning." His face split into a wide grin, he was obviously proud of himself. He opened the fridge and pulled out two cans of beer, handing one to the other man. "Dad, we did it!"

"Yeah, you did." Nelson made no move to open his can, placing it on the bench along with the bag.

"You still don't sound so happy."

"Don't get me wrong, son. I'm glad to be out of that place. I just don't like what you did to make that happen." He was returning to his interrupted argument from the parking lot.

"You still upset at that?" Brad waved his hand back at the agent.

Nelson looked down at Don for a moment. "Yes, that. And the robberies, and the killings. It all stops when we get to Mexico."

Brad shook his head, taking another pull on his beer. "We're gonna need money to live on, Dad."

"What have you done with all the money you've already stolen?"

"We had to pay some people off. Ramirez is also costing a packet. We're not gonna have much left when this is over."

"It doesn't matter, there's not going to be any more. I don't want anyone else to be hurt." He said firmly as he approached the agent. He looked back over his shoulder. "Have you got a first aid kit?"

"What?" Brad sounded confused as he watched his father crouch beside their hostage.

"I'm going to have a look at his arm, you started it bleeding again. Here, Agent, let me help you up."

Don was gently rolled to his side and with Nelson's help was lifted to a seated position, leaning back against the wall. Nelson turned to look back at his son and Don saw that Brad hadn't moved and was still staring at them.

"What do you care about his arm? He's lucky I haven't broken it yet. He's the one that got you locked up in that place and has only just started to get what's coming to him."

"Leave him be. You've done more than enough to him. Anyway, I got myself locked up, Brad." Nelson corrected. "I threatened him and put him in danger. He's the one that kept me alive when I handed myself in."

"If you'd left him in the airplane we wouldn't be here now."

"Probably not, but I'd have a dead agent on my conscience. Brad, do you have a kit or not? Jack usually carries one." Nelson's voice had sharpened and had the desired effect. His son finally moved, putting down his beer can. After a brief search in one of the larger bags in the room he came up with a small green bag that he all but shoved at his father.

Accepting the bag Nelson placed it on the floor beside him and started sorting through its contents. Brad watched for a moment before draining his beer. Next he angrily rummaged in another bag pulling out pieces of clothing before stamping around out of sight to get changed. From the reflection on the glass of a picture mounted on the wall Don saw the bathroom door swing almost closed. Brad would be able to hear what was going on and react quickly if something happened he didn't like.

"Let's get you patched up." Nelson said softly as he took to Don's left sleeve with a pair of scissors.

"Why?"

The sleeve was gone and the scissors put down in favour of a swab doused with antiseptic solution. He stopped for a moment staring at the agent. "What do you mean?"

"I mean why bother?" He clarified. He involuntarily twitched away and hissed briefly as the antiseptic solution stung when the swab moved over the wound. He leant forward slightly and dropped his voice in an attempt to keep his next words private. "If you don't get your son under control he's going to kill me."

There was no other way to put it. The callous way in which he'd been treated, the increasing violence in the face of his non-resistance had firmed that suspicion in his mind. It was all but confirmed now with Brad's comment that he'd only started to get what was coming to him. Why the young man hated him so much he couldn't understand but if Nelson didn't act, he was as good as dead as soon as his usefulness was over.

Nelson glanced over in the direction his son had gone. He also kept his voice low but continued working, reaching for a dressing then a bandage. "He's not going to kill anyone. When we get to this boat you're going free."

"Hunh." Don grunted, he'd had enough. "I've heard that too many times today. He'll probably tell you the Coast Guard's waiting and you'll still need me. I'll end up on that boat." That was just as certain as the next fact that he would never see Mexico.

Despite his earlier assurance that it wouldn't come to pass the expression on the older man's face showed that he'd already considered the possibility, both the spoken one and the unspoken one. Nelson resolutely finished taping off the end of the bandage so it would stay put. "I won't let that happen. If your people are on the ball we won't get that far anyway."

Another grunt. His 'people' were being hampered by the simple fact that he was still in the firing line. They had banked on Nelson's release from prison getting him clear but that hadn't happened and they would now be forced to work on a different means of ending this. He knew they would have been followed to this motel and forces would be marshalling nearby but the problem still remained, the offenders had a hostage and were prepared to shoot their way out of trouble. The book said that negotiation was the way to resolve the situation, but that hadn't exactly worked so far.

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	11. Chapter 11

_Numb3rs: Crosshairs_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_**A/N:** Let's see if I can tweak this a little more..._

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

-100-1111-1110-

Nelson had just lifted a fresh bottle of water to the agent's lips when there was a knock on the door. Don only got a single mouthful before the bottle was put aside as both Nelson and Brad looked to the door and then each other. Brad pulled his gun out and with a pointed lift of the weapon indicated that his father was to do the same. Nelson drew the Glock from Don's holster that he was now wearing before standing. Still not satisfied Brad jerked his gun hand at their hostage. Nelson reluctantly responded by pointing the Glock in the general direction of the agent at his feet.

Brad peered cautiously through the spy hole in the door. He backed up a pace obviously surprised and just as obviously not happy at what he saw. There was no immediate alarm however so Don knew it was not a team of heavily armed SWAT agents that waited outside. The knock had been far too polite for that anyway. As Brad hesitated there was a second knock accompanied this time by a male voice.

"Let us in. We know you're there."

The gun was lowered but not put away as Brad turned the lock and opened the door.

The two men entered quickly, swinging the door shut behind them. They both looked around the room in a way that Don recognised as a threat assessment. Their eyes barely skimmed over the man on the floor, their attention drawn to the two naked weapons. As one the men moved their hands to rest on the grips of their own guns under their shirts.

"What do you want?" Brad demanded, his voice less than friendly. He made no move to introduce the two men.

"Turner's not happy." The first man said.

Don instantly recognised the voice as one of the robbers from the bank. That meant these two men were the other members of the AK-47s. He found it worrying that Brad did not want to talk to them, wondering if there had been a falling out.

"He got paid."

"Not enough." The man Don had earlier dubbed 'Three' responded.

"It was more than what we agreed."

"Yeah, for the banks. But not enough to cover the rest of the job."

From what he'd seen in the bank Brad and Jack had been calling the shots, the other two robbers simply obeying instructions. This conversation now was proof that the two men were hired hands, perhaps mercenaries judging by their military bearing and references to this Turner character as if he were an employer.

"You're not doing the whole job. We got Dad out without your help."

The men glanced at the subject of the discussion. Nelson for his part said nothing, clearly out of his depth. He probably knew even less about who these men were and what they wanted than the agent did.

"Turner had already made arrangements in New Mexico. They cost money. He wants to be paid." Three continued having immediately returned his attention Brad.

The other man however had locked eyes with Don. There was a moment of recognition. His hand came away from under his shirt holding a .45 calibre semi-automatic. The gun was raised and aimed at a point between the agent's eyes.

"What are you doing?" Brad demanded.

"That's the fed." 'One' stated, his thumb pulling back the hammer on his gun.

"Wait! He's our ticket out of here."

His sudden step towards One had the fourth man pulling out his own weapon. Brad froze and there was a tense moment as each of the four men looked at each other. When no-one moved a delicate balance was restored and the threat of immediate gunplay eased.

"He's dead." One corrected as if nothing had happened. His gun had never wavered.

"He will be, when I'm ready." Brad insisted. The statement was completely matter of fact. Don's fate had long been determined. "Don't worry. He won't identify you, either of you."

One considered Brad's words. Helpless, Don could only stare up at the weapon aimed steadily at him. With no argument that he could present, they knew who he was and it didn't matter, he maintained his silence. His only consolation was that it would be quick, from this range One couldn't miss. A single round through his head would do the job. Based on what had happened so far, if he was left to Brad's mercy he had no such guarantee that his death would be so kind.

"West, stand down." Three ordered a moment later. "We neutralise him here someone will call the cops."

West reacted immediately to the order, releasing the hammer and lowering the gun. It was clear he was a professional, his desire to kill the agent stemmed wholly from the need to remove a witness that could identify them. There was nothing personal about it, unlike Brad's threatening promise.

"You can keep the fed." Three granted generously. "You pay us what you owe and we're gone. You just make sure that the fed is dead when you're finished with him. If you don't we'll take care of him, then you."

"Fine. How much?"

"Five hundred thou'."

"But we've already given you one mil'." Brad protested.

Don couldn't believe the amount demanded. It was way above what he would have considered the going rate for what the mercenaries had done. Even when he factored in the apparent preparations their boss Turner had made in New Mexico for a jailbreak. No wonder they'd been trying to take as much cash as possible during the robberies. Brad and Jack had needed every dollar to cover the exorbitant fee.

"So?"

"We need that money to get out of the country." Brad argued.

"Ramirez is only charging one hundred each. You're using our pipeline, you pay a cut for that as well. You owe four hundred for our expenses in New Mexico, the other hundred for our introduction to Ramirez." Three calmly explained the costs as if it were a simple business transaction. All that was missing was a printed invoice.

"It's not fair. We'd agreed on a price."

"So make a complaint." Three's tone was now amused as he gestured at the agent.

Brad's teeth bared in an impotent snarl, there was nothing he could do about it and he knew it. There was no civilised process of resolving contractual disputes where mercenaries were involved. He moved towards a bag stopping when two weapons snapped up to aim at him. "I'm getting your money."

"Nice and easy." Three ordered, lowering his weapon only slightly.

Looking at the size of the bag Brad was now reaching into Don understood the reason for the mercenaries' extra caution. There was enough room in it to conceal a Kalashnikov.

"Just the used notes." Three added as Brad started randomly pulling out stacks of notes, still bound by the bank wrappers.

The younger man put one stack of new notes back, carefully selecting the rest and counting until he reached the demanded amount. He cast around for a moment before grabbing at the small wastepaper basket. He pulled the plastic liner out and used the bag to put the cash in.

"Here, take it. We're fully paid up now."

Having got their way the two men tucked their weapons back into their belts, draping the loose shirts over the top. Three stopped at the door as West headed out. "Don't try hiring us again. Turner's blacklisted you."

The door closed firmly behind the men before Brad could make any comment. From the furious look on his face that was probably for the best. Saying the wrong thing to those type of men could easily have gotten them all killed.

"You've gone too far." Nelson said rounding on his son who was repacking the bag. "Hiring people like that."

Brad was still angry but unrepentant. "We needed them. They had the connections to get you out."

"You were going to raid the jail? I had just seven months left. You probably would have got me killed." Despite La Tuna being a minimum security facility it was a federal correctional institution and would be well defended.

"They're professionals, you wouldn't have been hurt. Besides, you wouldn't have lasted seven months."

"La Tuna wasn't so bad. I would have been okay." Nelson tried to sound confident but didn't quite pull it off.

"No, you wouldn't." Brad insisted, zipping up the bag and turning around. "You're out. That's all that matters."

"No, that's not all. The FBI did everything you demanded and yet you're still threatening Agent Eppes."

"I just stopped them killing him."

"Yes, you did." Nelson's voice changed and took on a deeply bitter note. "But only because you want to do it yourself."

Don couldn't remember ever hearing anyone sounding so disappointed as Nelson now did about his son. He could only listen with increasing concern as the argument between father and son became more serious. Both men still had weapons in hand.

"So what? That's between me and him. You may have forgiven him but I haven't."

"No. This is all my fault and I won't have it." Nelson turned his back on the subject of the argument, placing himself between the agent and his son.

Brad stepped closer to his father, his voice lowering and taking on a dangerous tone. "You planning on stopping me?"

-100-1-10110-1001-100-

SWAT wasted no time, starting to prepare their equipment. The EMTs from the two ambulances also started to prepare their equipment. Any action involving SWAT could easily result in multiple casualties with major trauma if the targets resisted. King stepped up into the command centre with the motel blueprints. Using the magnets he pinned the blueprints up on the board.

"Which room is it?"

"This one, number ten." David answered, his finger circling the room, its location described to him by Suffolk.

"Just the one way in or out." King mused. There was only a small bathroom window on the back wall, too small to be used as an effective entry or exit. The room had a solid wall on either side, there were no adjoining doors with the neighbouring rooms. The only entry point was through the front, either through the door or the large fixed window.

"Do we have a visual into the room?"

"No. Agent Suffolk reports the blinds are drawn."

"So we have four hostiles in with Eppes?"

"We don't know anything about the two new men but we have to assume they're hostiles. That's them there. We haven't been able to work up any ID as yet." David commented, indicating the monitor showing the photograph taken by Suffolk on his cell phone. He handed over a copy of the image then pulled out Nelson's mugshot. "This is Nelson, he may or may not be a hostile. He signed a deal to help us but we're not sure any more."

King shook his head as he checked the blueprints again. As far as he was concerned a possible hostile was a hostile until proven otherwise. "I don't like the odds, there's a high risk of collateral damage if we hit it with that many hostiles in such a confined space."

"I know."

"The one that left, that was the sniper?"

"Yes. Jack Carpenter." David reached for two more mugshots. They were old but the photographs taken by Nikki when they left from the parking structure in the red van and later by Colby as they entered the motel were not much better, both sets taken quickly and at full zoom. He handed printouts of those over as well. "This is Jack, and that is Brad Nelson."

"Where is this one now?" King asked holding up Jack's photograph.

"He's just torched the van and swapped to a new vehicle, a green suburban. Still headed generally east."

"Has he got the rifle with him?"

"Colby didn't see it, but it doesn't mean he's not armed."

"Have you got enough people on him to take him at the same time we breach?"

The fact that their plan of attack was going to be a breach was a given. Negotiation was over; there had been too many threats and broken promises to trust that line of attack. The highly dangerous direct approach was the only way left to them.

"Four units with LAPD ready to back them up." They had to take the sniper at the same time, if they missed Jack would be able to take up where he left off targeting others in an attempt to rescue his friend and partner.

King pulled the blueprint off the board, collecting the magnets and a set of coloured Chinagraph wax pencils as he prepared to leave. He needed them for his own briefing to his men. "I'll prepare our entry plan and we'll get ready to go in. Hopefully by then the odds will have changed more in our favour."

David also hoped the two newcomers would not be staying. If they left then Don would stand a far better chance. He had a fair idea who the two men were and had already organised for more agents and some LAPD units to be ready to tail them. Colby would take the lead if the men left.

It was just as King was reporting back to David that they received the welcome news from Suffolk that the two men had left. They'd picked something up, leaving with a plastic bag they'd not had when the arrived. The two men returned to their Chrysler 300C and drove calmly away. For a minute they listened to the reports as the men headed south, there was no sign that they'd spotted their tail. David had already briefed both sets of tailing agents that they were going to be hitting their targets simultaneously with the assault on the room.

"How are you going in?"

"The old fashioned way. I can't risk the flash-bangs, if they're holding a gun on him the explosions could make them pull the trigger in reflex." King was unhappy but didn't want to take the risk. "If we go in hard enough we'll be almost as effective." Their hope with that was the basic human instinct to turn and look at a sudden disturbance.

David had noted that King was fully kitted. "You're leading the team."

"Yes. Agent Torrel is my second, he'll run things from out here."

"When will you be ready?" David asked even as he knew the answer. The SUV was already running, four men standing on the running boards holding onto the rail bolted to the roof. They were waiting for King to join them.

"We're heading out now. As soon as we get there we're going in. We got the go?"

He felt strangely reluctant, it was possible he was signing Don's death warrant. But there was nothing for it, they were out of options. "You've got the go."

David returned to the command centre truck and gave the stand-by signal to the agents on the mobile targets. Even though each set of agents were working on their own frequency the selectors on his radio had been set to enable him to transmit and receive both at the same time. SWAT, however, were on their own channel on their own separate radio unit.

"_SWAT Commander to Charlie Two. Action on."_ King reported.

"All units from Charlie Two, execute, execute, execute!"

There was an immediate flurry of radio calls, the agents coordinating their movements amongst themselves. Then came the reports of shots being fired from the team on Jack, he was resisting their efforts to take him into custody.

There was nothing from the SWAT radio, they operated in radio silence until the need to report in.

All he could do now was wait.

.


	12. Chapter 12

_Numb3rs: Crosshairs_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

-100-1111-1110-

"Don't hurt him!" Nelson ordered as the SWAT agents faced off with his son. "Nobody shoot."

At the instant of the six member SWAT team's forced entry to the room Nelson had spun away as if in reflex. He'd reached down with his unencumbered hand and with strength born of desperation was able to drag Don to his feet. A moment later and Don was being held securely in front of the older man, the Glock pressing tightly up under his jaw. Nelson's gun hand was steady, his resolve firm. There was none of the nervousness that had been present earlier.

Up until that moment in all his dealings with the man Don had been semi-confident that he had meant him no harm, the threat of a weapon most likely a bluff but one that he wasn't sure enough to call. This was different, this was no bluff. For the first time Don fully believed that Nelson would carry out his threat. The shock of his perilous situation helped to clear his fuzzy thoughts even if he had no energy to do anything other than virtually hang in Nelson's hold.

Nelson's desperately shouted orders had the desired effect, all movement ceasing as threats were assessed and ranked in order of probability. The seconds ticked by as the SWAT team continued to hold their position, it seemed they also believed Nelson was serious.

Brad glanced over at his father then, seeing the gun aimed at their hostage his face took on a cocky grin. He faced the agent in front of him. "Back off or Eppes gets it."

Don waited to see what would happen. His eyes sought out the name tag attached to the SWAT team leader's ballistic armour, the helmet and goggles made it difficult to simply recognise the face. He was surprised when he read the name, King rarely lead teams into action himself. King came to a decision, slowly raising one hand he began to indicate that the team retreat. Their entry had been too slow, they'd been unable to prevent the agent being used against them. The playbook required that they back off to allow the offenders some breathing space.

"No! No-one move." Nelson immediately countermanded. He eyed the guns aimed at him but he was safely sheltered behind the injured agent. There were more pointing his way now than there'd been before. He wasn't worried about those, it was the ones still aimed at his son that concerned him.

"What?" Brad said in astonishment.

Nelson moved a few paces away from his son, dragging his hostage with him. "This ends now."

"Yeah it does. They back off and let us leave or you shoot the fed."

"No. Put your gun down, son. I won't let them shoot you if you surrender." Nelson paused before continuing. "But if you try something I can't be responsible for what they do."

There was confusion on what he could see of the SWAT team's faces. Don couldn't blame them as they tried to come up with a strategy to apply to the situation. They had two offenders holding an agent hostage, not a regular occurrence but one that they'd been trained to deal with. The hostage was being used to protect one offender and after a fashion, the second offender. Again that was something they'd learnt to deal with but the demand was a new one. The threat against the hostage had them holding position as one offender actually used the SWAT team to threaten the other offender.

King looked at the hostage but there was no assistance from that direction. Don had nothing to offer that wouldn't increase the tension in the room any further. King did not need to be told that Nelson was prepared do all he could to ensure his son's safety, threatening Don's life if he had to. The SWAT agent would be able to see that. King would also be able to see that Nelson was working to prevent his son's escape, though he would not understand why. He would not know that if they were forced to obey the young offender's orders the cost would be the eventual death of the hostage, precisely what they were trying to prevent.

It was an almost impossible balance that Nelson was trying to maintain, relying heavily on the SWAT team's professionalism to resolve the situation without him needing to carry out his threat. Don had no idea what he could say to the SWAT team leader, to Brad or even to Nelson to resolve the situation. That was even if he could open his mouth to speak, the pressure of the weapon under his jaw was sufficient to enforce his silence.

It was coming back to the argument between Nelson and Brad that the team's entry had interrupted. The argument had been going nowhere, now the SWAT team were being used to bolster Nelson's position.

"Dad-"

"No Brad. Agent Eppes is not leaving here with you. You've got two choices, put the gun down and live or try to get through them and die."

"Then keep the fed with you. Make them give me a head start." Brad demanded in desperation. His gun was waving across in front of him, the arc encompassing the SWAT team. "Get out of my way!"

"No-one move!" Nelson repeated. "You, Agent, what's your name?"

The team leader hesitated at the unexpected question a bare moment before replying. "King."

"Agent King, my son does not leave this room unless he puts his gun down."

The eyes behind the goggles narrowed as he thought it over. He'd been involved in countless actions, but this was a first. He had to take this one step at a time. After a final glance at the hostage, King shifted his aim, levelling his weapon at Brad. "I can live with that."

"Dad!" Brad protested as he was suddenly faced with the majority of the SWAT team's weapons.

"I'm sorry, son." Nelson was sincere but his tone left no doubt that he would stick with his plan.

Faced with those odds and with no support from his father who had control over their hostage he took the only option open to him. Opening his hand he dropped the gun before dropping to his knees and raising his arms.

Hampered by the threat Nelson posed to the hostage King made no move to take Brad into custody, keeping to his one step at a time plan. He kept his weapon on target but sought guidance from Nelson.

"You can arrest my son, Agent King."

King nodded and three members of his team immediately stepped forward to secure the young man. They were efficient, handcuffing then quickly searching the prisoner for other weapons before lifting him up to his feet. Keen to maintain the momentum King jerked his head towards the door. The prisoner was taken out leaving King and two other SWAT agents facing Nelson and Don. They waited for the next move.

"What about Jack?" Nelson asked.

King lowered his weapon to press his transmit button, the two men behind him kept their weapons up. He spoke softly into his throat mic giving a terse briefing on their situation before asking for the status of the other actions underway. There was a brief reply in his ear which he relayed. "He's being taken into custody as we speak."

"Is he okay?"

"He was shot but will live. The other two men are also in custody."

Don felt Nelson relax slightly in relief. His goal to have both Jack and Brad brought in alive had been achieved. The other two men were simply a bonus. The pressure of the gun under his jaw eased slightly but the standoff wasn't over.

"What about my deal?"

King tensed. "What do you want?"

"My original deal," Nelson clarified. "Does it still stand? I don't want to go back to jail."

King relayed the query over his radio and waited. This question might take a little longer to have answered. He eyed the hostage in concern. He could see from the way the agent was standing that his endurance was about gone. "Agent Eppes, are you okay?"

Nelson lowered the gun a little further after feeling the agent try to move his jaw enough to speak.

"I'm okay."

"I'd like for someone to have a look at him." King asked not believing the agent's reassurance for a moment.

"No, not yet." Nelson shifted his grip slightly, enabling him to see Don's pale face. "He needs to sit down and I can't let him do that with you all here."

King gave Don a searching look before he took a small step back. "Alright, we'll back off." He gave the signal with his hand and his two men backed slowly out of the room. "We're going to be right outside. If you try to leave-"

"We're not going anywhere." Nelson interrupted. "Close the door."

That was more a case of pulling it to, the dynamic entry the team had made meant it was impossible to secure the door, not with the frame lying in shattered pieces on the floor. With the door as closed as it could get Nelson pulled the gun away and relaxed his grip, helping the agent to sit on the edge of the nearest bed. He reached down and came up with the bottle he'd been helping Don drink from earlier.

"Here, this should help."

Don took a long pull on the bottle before turning away.

"I seem to spend half my time apologising to you Agent, but I really am sorry."

Don didn't answer. He really was at the end of his endurance, both physically and mentally. He'd been threatened and promised his freedom so many times today he couldn't find it in himself to accept Nelson's apology, especially after the latest threat. He just wanted it over, one way or the other. He started to lie back on the bed, with the effects of the heat along with the pain in his leg and arm, the pounding headache and the multiple aches at the base of his neck, ribs and lower back he was more than ready to let go. A hand on his shoulder stopped him, pulling him back up.

"Stay with me a little longer, Agent." Nelson commanded. He lifted the bottle again. "Have some more."

Unable to deny his body's need for fluid, even if he had to deny its need for rest, Don took another drink draining the small bottle.

"Look, I know I've crossed the line with you, Agent. I've lost your trust, such as it was." Nelson said by way of continuing his apology. "But I couldn't just let them kill my son, no matter what he's done."

Don didn't really have the energy to argue back, especially since everything the man said was true. He understood why Nelson did what he did but that wasn't so much what had destroyed the conditional trust he'd had in the man. The need to hold him for the stated purpose of keeping his son and friend alive had passed. And yet, here they still were, he was in handcuffs and Nelson continued to hold the FBI at bay by threatening him. There was nothing he could do to improve his own situation, he was helpless, exhausted and sick, forced to wait at the mercy of the man whose motives he was no longer sure of.

Nelson left him for a moment to check the contents of the fridge, returning with a can of coke. Popping the top he held it up and told him to drink. The sugar in the soda instantly flooded his system providing much needed energy. The excessive carbonation made him cough but he managed some more before the room phone rang.

"Yes?" Nelson listened to the caller for a few seconds. "I want that in writing, the original document, not a copy. I just spent more than a year in jail for holding him at gunpoint, I'm not doing it again. … Alright, here."

The long cable on the handset made it easy for Nelson to place the receiver against Don's ear. "Eppes."

"_Don, its David. He's listening?"_

"No."

There was a moment's hesitation before David decided to take the risk. _"The DA says his deal is still good. To get the confirmation in writing delivered here will take a little while. Can you hold on that long? King says you're not so well. Say the word and we'll breach."_

Don closed his eyes and gave it a moment's serious thought. If he called for the breach it would be over in minutes. He was sorely tempted but his sense of duty remained, both to himself and the offender. There was the distinct probability that one or both of them would be killed in the process of a breach. There was no longer the likelihood that Nelson would surrender if push came to shove. He told himself it wouldn't be much longer, he'd made it this far. He ruthlessly put down the voice in his head that told him he'd already made that promise to himself.

"No, tell King to hold. Just don't be long with the paperwork." He pulled his head away from the receiver indicating he'd finished.

"How long will it take? Oh. … Agent King said there was someone out there that could look him over. … Yes, but just the one." Nelson hung up.

The knock on the door came a few minutes later, quicker than either of them expected.

"Yes?"

"EMT."

Nelson positioned himself beside Don so that the agent was between him and the door. "Come in, slowly."

The door was pushed open and a young man wearing a paramedic's uniform under a FBI ballistic vest entered. "EMT." He repeated as he stepped inside, hands held up at shoulder height as a bag swung off each shoulder.

"Close the door." Nelson's gun was held openly in his hand but was not pointed at the paramedic. "You a real medic?"

"Yes, sir. Intensive care paramedic. We rolled with the SWAT team." He pulled an ID tag off the side of his sleeve where it had been clipped to the pocket located there. He carefully came closer and handed it over so Nelson could compare the photograph. "They're real worried about him out there. They asked if one of us was prepared to come in. I sure hope you're not going to use that gun."

Nelson stepped aside. "See what you can do to make him more comfortable."

The paramedic moved in, placing his bags on the floor before giving his patient a quick glance over to see where he needed to start. "Taking those cuffs off would go a long way to doing that."

"No."

Unpacking equipment from his bags the paramedic looked up at Don. "Sorry Agent."

Don managed a small smile, he'd tried. For the next few minutes he answered questions as his vitals were measured and recorded. The dressing on his arm was changed as it had started to bleed sluggishly after Nelson had dragged him to his feet. A proper dressing was also put over the wound in his lower leg, his bloody tie discarded.

"Alright Agent, the fatigue and weakness you are feeling are the effects of heat exhaustion. You're going to need a CT or ultrasound scan of that kidney and X-rays of your neck and ribs. There's not a whole lot more I can do for you here." The EMT explained receiving a nod from his patient. He looked up at the man in control of the situation. "Can I move him?"

"I can't let him go just yet." Nelson answered.

The EMT raised his hands apparently expecting the gun to come up. He relaxed when that didn't happen and pointed at the bag of saline he'd pulled from his kit. "I understand. I know you've been giving him fluids but he's still badly dehydrated and I want to put a line in. Can I move him so he can lie down?"

Nelson nodded and after holstering the gun he helped, gently pulling the agent up the bed and laying him on his right side so no pressure would be on his restrained hands or his injured left arm.

"This is probably going to be a touch uncomfortable, Agent." The EMT explained as he prepared the needle for the IV line. He swabbed an area on the back of Don's left hand. The angles were all wrong but he had to work with what he had. Working efficiently he got the line in and with the aid of some surgical tape and a bandage jury rigged a stand out of a floor lamp to hold the saline bag at the right height. He set the drip rate and rechecked that the run of the IV line wasn't pulling at the needle in his patient's hand. He added some extra strips of tape for insurance. Finished he stood, pulled off his gloves and packed away the rest of his gear.

"All done?" Nelson asked.

"For now. That IV will need replacing soon." He stopped then glanced at the agent appearing to consider what he was going to say next. He put down the bag he'd started to pick up. "I'm willing to stay to watch him."

"No." Don roused himself, beating Nelson to the punch. He looked up at the older man. "Let him go."

"I'm not holding him Agent." He glanced at the name on the tag he still had in his hand. He offered it back. "You're safe if you stay Andrew, but I think he'd prefer it if you left."

"Agent, you need care until we can get you to hospital." Andrew presented his case.

"I've got care." Don's eyes flicked to the IV bag. "I'll be okay. I don't want anyone else in here if this goes wrong. Go."

"Call me when the drip needs replacing and I'll come back in." Andrew instructed as he collected his bags.

"Leave it here and I'll do it." Nelson responded.

"No sir, I can't let you do that."

"Alright. I'll call. Go."

Nelson drew the gun back out of the holster as Andrew headed for the door. After one final glance back the paramedic carefully pulled it open and announced that he was coming out.

.

_**A/N:** Not long now folks!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Numb3rs: Crosshairs_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

-100-1-10110-1001-100-

"_The EMTs out."_ King reported over the radio.

David let out a long breath in relief. It had been a risk asking the EMT to go in but King's report on Don's condition had made it urgent that the agent be checked over by the closest thing they had to a doctor.

Minutes later the ambulance was pulling back in beside the FBI vehicles at the rear of the mall. Following orders given before he'd gone in to see Don, the EMT made a beeline for David's truck.

"How is he? Can we wait?" David demanded.

"He's suffering from heat exhaustion along with one, possibly two bullet wounds and various contusions. I'm concerned about his kidney but I'm not seeing any danger signs just yet."

The extra injuries were all new for David. "What's happened to him?"

The EMT gave a quick rundown based on the agent's responses to his questions in the room. "By the sound of it the one you have in custody was responsible for all of that. The man with him has been trying to help him, giving him fluids so he's out of immediate danger. I've put a line in to provide extra hydration. I would prefer he be moved to hospital but it's not critical for the moment."

"Thank-you. I appreciate you being willing to go in there."

"Not my normal day at work." The EMT commented wryly. "The IV will need replacing soon, the man said he will call and I've told him I'll come back in."

That David wasn't so sure he would be able to allow. "We'll see. Describe everything you saw in there."

The EMT complied, describing the layout of the room but most importantly the location of the injured agent and the man with the gun. Finished, the EMT headed back to his ambulance where he was immediately joined by the other EMTs waiting at the command point.

David reached for the phone rather than the link and dialled an extension he'd rung too many times today.

"_Wright."_

"Sir, the paramedic's out safely." David started. He filled the ADIC in on the hostage agent's condition. "Do we have an ETA on the letter?"

"_It's been drafted and is now being checked over by the lawyers. I expect it will be on its way in ten minutes. We've borrowed an LAPD chopper to deliver it to you. You'll need to liaise with the pilot for the closest landing site." _

"Thank-you." That would save a lot of time. Peak hour had come to LA and bringing the document by road would have taken too much time.

"_This ends it. The letter goes in, Eppes comes out. There will be no more after this, are we understood Sinclair?"_

"Yes sir." David confirmed. With Don lying on the bed the SWAT team had a better solution now. If Nelson refused to surrender they would be going in hot to prevent a repeat of what had just happened.

"_Then maybe you'll be able to get this consultant out of my hair. I've had to threaten to arrest him to prevent him heading down to you."_

David had forgotten all about Charlie. The math professor must be frantic with worry. "I'll call him."

"_Good idea."_ Wright's line went dead.

Before making the call David briefed Agent Sommers, leaving it to the other man to scan the maps for the nearest place a helicopter could put down.

"_Charles Eppes."_

"Charlie, its David." This was another direct phone call rather than a semi-public broadcast over the link.

"_David, how's Don? What's happening?"_

"Charlie, calm down. A paramedic's just come back from seeing Don." David briefly outlined Don's condition knowing it was better to get it out of the way now rather than be accused of hiding things later. "He's going to be fine."

"_Fine? David how can he be fine? He just spent all day out in the sun and has been shot and now you're telling me he's been beaten!"_

"That's true, Charlie. But he's not seriously hurt, he's going to be fine." David repeated.

"_He won't be fine until he's out of there." _Charlie corrected. _"What went wrong?"_

David couldn't help but wince slightly at the tone of accusation in Charlie's voice. "Charlie, the team went in the best that they could. Nelson just reacted a lot quicker than anyone expected."

"_So what happens now?"_

"You know about the document Nelson wants?"

"_Yes. They're taking it up to the roof now."_

That was good news. "When it gets here we get Don out."

"_Maybe. Until then he's stuck in there with Nelson who for all we know could be hurting him more."_

"Charlie, it seems that Nelson has been looking after Don. From what the paramedic just told me it was Brad Nelson that caused most of his injuries."

"_Humph! Looking after Don by holding him at gunpoint."_

"I'm sorry, Charlie." David didn't know what else he could say. "I'll get him out."

"_Do that."_ Charlie's voice was uncharacteristically flat before the line went dead.

All in all, David thought, that had not gone well. The mathematician was upset with worry for his older brother and was lashing out at those who could conceivably be held to blame for what was happening. David didn't take it personally. Or rather, he was taking his failure personally, not Charlie's emotive words.

"Tango three is on the way." Sommers reported after giving the senior agent a moment.

"How long?"

"Less than ten. I've got them coming in here." Sommers pointed at his map. "Two minutes from here by car. I've got someone waiting."

"Good." David looked at his watch, marking for himself when the document would be delivered. "I'll be outside."

"Sir."

David climbed down from the truck and stood for a moment as he tried to collect his thoughts and prepare himself for the next step. They were complying with more demands in order to free the agent and if past experience today was anything to go on it would not be that easy. But he was just as determined as Wright. It would end here, sometime in the next twenty minutes or so. He had meant his promise to Charlie, he would do whatever it took to get Don out.

"Here."

Startled out of his thoughts David looked up to find the EMT in front of him. The young man was holding up a takeaway cup of coffee.

"I think you need this more than me."

David couldn't deny that he really needed some coffee. Taking the cup he drank a large mouthful and found it to be strong, just the way he liked it. Leaning back he sighed. "Thanks."

"He really will be alright." Andrew stated as he leant against the side of the command truck next to the agent.

"Once I get him out of there." David corrected after a pause.

"You're working on that, right?"

"Yeah. I've got a document coming that should see this all over." He found it hard to keep the edge of doubt out of his voice.

The silence stretched for a while. "Look, Agent. You've done this stuff before, you know what you're doing. I've seen how you guys work and I've seen inside that room. It's going to work out, Agent. Believe me."

David turned to the man beside him, he'd hardly expected a pep talk from an EMT. He knew they were trained in far more than just emergency medical care but this was coming from the heart. He found himself grateful for the unreserved support. "I'm going to make damned sure that it does."

Another long moment passed before Andrew saw the agent react to the helicopter that had just flown over. "How long?"

"Any time now."

The EMT pushed off from the side of the truck. "We'll be waiting to look after him when you get him released." Andrew reassured then turned and headed back to his ambulance.

David watched two more paramedics climbed into the back of the same bus as Andrew started his engine. As the ambulance drove out heading over to the motel, a black sedan came screeching to a halt next to the truck. David moved quickly to intercept the driver as he stepped out, a folder in hand.

"Agent Sinclair?"

"That's me." Accepting the folder David returned to the truck. Quickly opening the folder he read through the letter seeing that it was basically a précis of the agreement they'd already made with Nelson. It also held a promise from the DA that if all criminal activity ceased immediately upon receipt of the letter there would be no new charges arising out of the events of the day. It was exactly what Nelson had demanded.

Dialling the room number he drummed his fingers impatiently on the counter while he waited for the call to be connected.

"_Yes?"_

"How is he?"

"_I think he's doing better."_ Nelson reported. _"The drip's nearly done though. Can you send the medic back in?"_

"No." David immediately refused. "I have what you want."

"_That was quick."_ Nelson seemed a little suspicious.

"The helicopter that went overhead a moment ago brought it." The agent explained. For the second time that day he asked the question, "How do we do this?"

There was hesitation on the other end of the line. _"Have the EMT bring it in with the next drip."_

"No. I'll bring it."

Another hesitation. _"I want time to read it."_

"I'll bring it." David repeated. His promise ran through his head, whatever it took he was going to do. "I'll come unarmed, there will be no tricks. You can have as much time as you need to read it. If you don't like what it says you'll have me."

"I don't want-" Nelson cut himself off. "Alright. Bring it in."

David wasted no time pulling off his primary and then his back up weapons, handing both to Sommers to safeguard. "Update Wright. I'll brief Agent King before I go in."

Taking the other agent's black sedan David drove to the motel, double checking the letter several times along the way. He could afford no mistakes. His badge gained him entry past the barricade. Pulling up in one of the car spaces at the motel he made his way to the central pool area where the SWAT team were holding position.

"You're going to give him another hostage." King objected, just as he had done when told the EMT was going in.

"Maybe. If that's what it takes to get Don out, then yes." David admitted. "Orders from Wright. This ends now. Give me a little time to bring Nelson out or have Don sent out. If neither of those things happen or he holds me, then you come in. Hard. I'll be ready."

"If it comes to that get on the floor." King ordered by way of acceptance after a penetrating look. "If Eppes is still in there, get him down as well."

"You'll have to dig us out of the carpet."

"Good. I'm going to have you wired so I know what's happening."

Chafing at the delay David nonetheless followed the man King indicated and waited as he was given a radio, a microphone and an earpiece. The set up had a permanently live microphone. A separate circuit allowed the special radio to receive whilst transmitting, thus David would be able to hear King even as King could hear everything within range.

"We lose that, we come in." King explained. "Until then, we'll give you a little time."

After checking that the document was safe in the folder one last time David found himself in front of the damaged door to room ten. He took a deep steadying breath and knocked twice.

"Agent Sinclair."

There was a pause before Nelson's instruction, "Come in, slowly."

As he eased the door open, hands held up at shoulder height, David had a brief moment of doubt. Was he doing the right thing, trying to resolve this peacefully when all previous attempts had failed? Then he caught sight of the figure lying on the bed and the doubts faded. Whichever way it went, he wanted to be here. He couldn't stand being on the outside any longer.

Taking a second cautious step he fully entered the room. He looked around, not seeing Nelson anywhere. Then there was a sound and he realised that Nelson had just pushed the door closed and was now standing behind him. He'd been waiting behind the door as the agent had entered. David moved forward a third pace to give Nelson some space before he stopped and waited. A hand lightly touched his back before sliding around his waist then down his legs.

"You're unarmed." Nelson stated, sounding a little surprised.

David didn't turn. "I said I would come unarmed. I keep my word."

Nelson responded to the dig. "I tried, Agent. But circumstances conspired against me."

"Which leaves us here."

"Yes." A hand touched the radio clipped to the back of his belt. "What is this?"

"A wire." David's spare hand twitched toward the earpiece in his left ear showing that the circuit was two way.

"They can hear us? And talk to you?"

"Yes."

"What happens if I tell you to take it off?"

David licked his lips as he calculated the distance to Don's watchful form. Would he have enough time to get there and get them both on the floor before the door went? "You don't want that."

"If you put it that way, it can stay." Nelson decided.

There was movement to his right and David turned his head slightly to see Nelson move around to stand just slightly ahead of him. His training had him looking for the man's stolen weapon to see it held loosely at his side. He looked back up to see Nelson regarding him steadily with a knowing look.

"Is that my letter?"

David slowly lowered his arms, extending his right but keeping hold of the folder a moment longer. "I want to look him over while you read it."

"Of course." Nelson reached out his spare hand and took the folder. He backed up, giving the illusion of privacy and waited for David to move before he opened the folder.

Moving slowly David went to the bed. His boss was lying on his right side, hands restrained behind his back by handcuffs, most probably his own. The bandage on his arm showed a hint of red in the centre. Checking the drip he saw that Nelson hadn't lied, it was almost finished. He couldn't see the other injuries, just that Don appeared to be exhausted even if he seemed alert.

David crouched down. "How are you doing?"

"What are you doing here, David?" Don's voice was soft and reproachful as he ignored the question.

"Giving him what he wants."

Don obviously read more than the one meaning into the reply. The senior agent was an expert at reading between the lines. The document could easily have been delivered by sliding it under the door. "No, David."

"Don, whatever it takes." Through his tone he conveyed that he was not going to be ordered out of his chosen path. He held his gaze steady.

His boss stared at him a moment longer before letting it go. "The letter?"

"Says what he wanted it to say. His deal with us is still good for everything up to this moment. Once he's read it this has to stop. If he takes it any further he will go back to jail."

"Sounds fair. The AK-47s are all in custody. Not a bad day's work."

That was one way to spin it, David supposed.

"Agent Sinclair."

David stood and faced Nelson. It was no accident that he was between the older man and his boss.

"You will abide by this?" He lifted the sheet of paper. "The men outside, they will abide by this?"

"It's an official document. This ends, you surrender the gun and release Agent Eppes and you go free. No charges, no jail."

Nelson lifted the gun slightly, muzzle pointed to one side so that it could not be read as a threat. "I never wanted this."

"But events conspired." David completed.

"Exactly. I tried to get him released several times but my son wouldn't allow it. I don't like what my son has become. If I hadn't been here Agent Eppes would be dead by now or at the very least in far worse shape. I did my best, I couldn't prevent everything but I did my best."

David couldn't help but glance back at his boss. Everything Nelson had just said gelled with what the EMT had told him. Feeling his eyes on him Don looked up and nodded. "It's true."

"I believe you." David stated turning back to Nelson. "Now he needs to go to hospital."

"Yes. You have keys?"

David carefully reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, holding up the handcuff key.

"Unlock him."

Reaching over his boss, careful not to jostle the injured arm or the IV needle he worked at the locks. A moment later and the cuffs were off. With a little help from David, he moved his arms around in front of him. Don rubbed gently at his wrists, the cuffs hadn't been too tight but there were marks all the same.

Reaching out David gently touched Don on his shoulder in reassurance before turning back to face Nelson. He still wasn't sure how this was going to go but it looked like Don was going to be released, he could live with whatever happened after that.

"No charges, no jail." Nelson repeated. "But?"

There was a 'but'. "You come back with us and give us a statement about everything that's happened, about everything your son did to him."

"And then I walk."

"You walk."

"Okay." Nelson moved his thumb, pressing the magazine release. He put the magazine onto the bench before racking the slide and catching the ejected round. Finally he placed the unloaded Glock on the bench along with the holster pulled from his belt and stepped away. With both hands now free he folded his letter and slid it into a pocket of his jeans where it would be safe.

David spoke for the microphone. "Agent King, Nelson has disarmed. I'm going to search him, stand-by."

"_Received."_

Having been forewarned Nelson raised his arms away from his side and held still as David returned his favour from earlier. Finding nothing the agent stood back. He eyed the cuffs that he'd left on the edge of the bed but decided against using them. Despite the justification Nelson was a free man.

Now he was torn, he had to escort Nelson out but he didn't want to leave Don. He glanced back to see Don was watching him.

"Go. Take him back to the office and get that statement going." Don ordered. "I'll be fine."

"Boss." David acknowledged, Don was right. "Agent King, we're coming out. Have the EMTs ready to enter."

"_They're waiting."_ King reported. _"Send Nelson out first. We need to see his hands."_

David relayed the instruction before pulling the door open. Nelson obediently moved out, hands held high to be swiftly grabbed by two SWAT agents and searched a second time. One agent reached for his cuffs only to be stopped by David.

"Put him in my car, have someone stay with him."

Nelson didn't comment even though the order effectively put him in custody. He went with the two agents without complaint.

King wasn't wasting time, David turned to order the EMTs in only to find that they were already being waved forward by the SWAT team leader. Another agent was standing in the doorway of the room having conducted the world's fastest room sweep to ensure all was safe.

"We'll take care of it, Agent Sinclair." King said.

David lingered a moment watching as the EMTs got to work. But there was nothing he could do there and he had work still to do. He turned away and headed for the car.

.


	14. Chapter 14

_Numb3rs: Crosshairs_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

-100-1111-1110-

It was the second night after his release and another tall bottle of Perrier done up with a bow was placed onto the table inside the door of the Craftsman. It joined all the others taking pride of place next to the green bowl.

"Hey, boss. Can't have you going thirsty now can we?" David said around a wide grin.

"I think I can just about open a Perrier shop, David." Don replied around his own grin. Every member of his team along with Robin and Amita had brought the same gift leading him, as the crack investigator he was, to suspect a certain level of collusion.

"Just following doctor's orders. Gotta keep those fluids up."

"Sure." Having just spent all of the previous day in hospital hearing the same thing Don's smile slipped a little. The hospital had pumped him full of fluids until his body had decided enough was enough and he'd been forced to spend several hours running to the rest room as the nurses kept forcing more fluids onto him. Finally they'd let him decide when or if he wanted another drink. He'd had more than enough fluids to last him the rest of the week. After spending that long day in the sun he'd never thought he'd look at water with any sort of reluctance but after having just had so much in such a short period of time he'd revised that.

David started to move off towards the happy voices he could hear but Don stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Nelson?"

"He's gone back to Albuquerque. He said he wanted to start over and being somewhere familiar would make that easier for him. He wanted me to tell you that this was going to be his last apology to you, he will make his life over." David had more to the message but wasn't sure how Don would take it. He decided he had to pass it on. "He also said that he never wanted to see you again. When his son's trial comes up he said he'll stay away on the days that you give evidence and would like you to stay away for the rest of it. He said you would understand."

Don felt that he did understand. He'd been the cause of Nelson finding out his son's true character. After a moment's further thought he decided it also went towards explaining why the man had lost all reluctance to threaten him in the minutes that had followed that realisation. He could only barely begin to understand how Nelson would have felt, torn between love for his son and hatred of the cold hearted killer that Brad had become. His love had forced him to keep his son alive even as he forced his capture. That led the agent to a new realisation, now he had a second member of the Nelson family holding him to blame for something. It just needed the other son, Paul, to get with the flow and he would have a full set.

"Don?" David asked in concern. "You alright, man?"

Shaking his thoughts off he clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Yeah, David, I'm good. Come on, let's join the others."

David was the last of this team to arrive and Don led the way to the dinner table where everyone else was waiting. It had become somewhat of a tradition after a tough case for Alan to cook up a feast of some sort for the team. Tonight was Don's favourite, rib-eye to be followed by ice-cream. This was the first time they'd all been together since the capture of the AK-47s. A round of greetings followed and a beer was placed in front of the latest arrival.

Wiping his mouth with obvious pleasure David rested the bottle back on the table. "Ah, needed that." He looked up to see one face looking not quite so happy to see him, perhaps even a touch guilty. "Charlie?"

"I'm sorry, David."

Puzzled, David frowned. "For what?"

Charlie looked down. "For how I spoke to you on the phone just before you got Don out."

David glanced back at Don before leaning forward. "Charlie, there's nothing to be sorry for. We were all under a lot of pressure. Forget about it."

"I," Charlie started then also looked to his older brother. He changed his mind. "Thanks, David. For everything."

David smiled. "No problem."

"Thanks from me too, David." Alan put in as he brought out the first plates. Charlie jumped up and helped with the rest until a minute or so later all were digging in.

"So everything's done?" Alan asked, once the first edge of hunger had been satisfied.

"All the urgent stuff." David explained. "They've all been moved to the detention centre and will stay on remand until the trials. Only one made a bail application at court today and that was denied."

"Let me guess," Don started.

"Yep. Brad." David confirmed. "We've put a notification alert on him."

"What's that?" Alan asked as his son nodded and there were relieved looks from the other agents.

"It means that whenever Brad Nelson is moved, goes to court, or is basically in any situation where security could be compromised we get alerted."

Alan looked alarmed rather than relieved. "Security isn't going to be compromised, is it? I don't want that maniac coming after Don again."

"That's what the notice is for. It goes the other way as well, alerting the security staff that he is a high risk prisoner and to take all precautions. Brad Nelson isn't going anywhere we don't want him to."

"Have they talked?"

"We couldn't get Brad to shut up. But in between all the … Uh-" David suddenly thought better of what he was about to say and stopped himself, not needing the beginnings of the warning glare that Don was sending his way. Alan's eyes had started to narrow as he demonstrated just where Don had learnt to read between the lines. Brad had been only too vocal in his threats against the agent, promising to finish what he'd started. That was going to be the next step of their investigation, determining whether or not Brad had any sort of failsafe plan in place in case of his capture.

David brought himself back on track. "A couple of months ago Brad and Jack decided that they had to find a way to get Scott Nelson out of jail. Apparently he was finding it hard on the inside. The jail confirms that he wasn't coping, hence the move to La Tuna to ease the pressure on him. Anyway, they started asking around and eventually through friends of friends of friends they heard of a man known as Turner."

"You got any more idea on who he is?" Don asked. He'd been kept up to date on the investigation but hadn't heard any more on that angle.

"Not yet." Colby fielded this one. "I've put the word out amongst my contacts and I'm waiting to hear back."

"What about his two men, West and Buckley?"

"Not saying a word. But we know they're both ex-marines, we got their dossiers out of the Navy after we ran their prints. NCIS are running background checks on them and everyone they may have come into contact with. That's likely to take some time, it's not a high priority investigation from their end."

"But-" Alan protested.

"No, Dad. He's right. They have a lot on their plate and have to schedule the investigation amongst their other work."

"So they found this Turner?" Charlie prompted.

"They found Turner. At the time they were dealing with him he was based in San Francisco which is why the robberies started there."

"So why'd they move to LA?"

"That was Brad's idea. Seems he was hoping to have some time out to come looking for you, Don. He'd made some inquiries and confirmed that you were still at this office. He couldn't believe his luck when you walked in on that robbery."

"Some luck."

"For you, maybe. But for Brad it was the best thing that could have happened."

"Why does he hate you so much?" Alan asked.

"Seems he blames me for his father going to jail after the plane crash."

"But he got a reduced sentence because of you. You told them how he looked after you, how he got you out of the plane wreck. You downplayed the threats he made to you."

"Yeah. He got a lot longer than I would have expected, but there was nothing I could do about that. The federal prosecutor wanted to set an example. Not so sure that it was the right example." Don shrugged. He remembered thinking after the sentence came down that the prosecutor's actions could make it less likely for someone to help an injured agent if a similar set of circumstances ever occurred again.

"I saw the file, he went hard but he was fair." Robin commented. "Considering the sentence he could have got Scott Nelson was lucky."

"Brad didn't think so."

"So why the robberies in the first place?" Alan asked. "I mean, if it was Don they were after why not come after him directly?"

"They weren't after Don, not as a primary target anyway. They were trying to find a way to get Scott Nelson out of jail. The only way they could see to pull that off was an attack on the jail itself. A good old-fashioned jail break." David explained. "But to do that, they needed money to pay Turner to hire his guys."

"So they started robbing banks to raise the cash." Nikki provided as David took a pull on his beer.

David nodded. "Turner was demanding a lot of money for his services, compounded by the fact that he was allowing the use of two of his men, West and Buckley to raise that money. It was a win-win situation for him, every robbery they committed required the payment of a fee from the takings, the break-out and escape from the US was also going to cost a fortune."

"Explains why Brad was complaining they wouldn't have any money left once they'd got Nelson released." Don added. "How's our San Francisco office coming along?"

"Not getting anywhere, just like us. They've found indications that Turner was in town but he's since vanished without a trace. There was an existent Bureau file on him, seems over the last ten years or so he has set up operations all over the States only to disappear when he gets noticed."

"What about other previous employees?"

"All silent. Only a few have been taken into custody and all refuse to talk about anything. All we know is that they were all from various branches of the armed services and all were working for the highest bidder."

"Can I look at the files?" Charlie asked. "I may be able to find something.

"Charlie, I don't think that's such a good idea." Alan said.

"I'll get you the files." Don promised. He saw his father's disapproving look. "We can't have such a group on the loose, not with their skills and backgrounds. Who knows who they may hire themselves out to? This falls within our mandate. I'll let you know when we've got everything together, Charlie."

Pleased at his brother's insistence that he help, Charlie smiled. He saw that their father's look had turned from disapproval to worry. "I'll just be working the files, Dad."

"That's what worries me, you'll find something, make some breakthrough and then your brother and his team will act on it going up against mercenaries."

"We've dealt with military types before." Don insisted. "Even have a few of our own."

Colby smiled at the reference although he knew that his boss had also referred to their SWAT teams, most of whom were also ex-military. "They are all professionals, Alan. The ones we took down surrendered once they saw we had them at a disadvantage. Unlike most of the crooks we deal with Turner's men know when to give up."

Colby had lead the attack on the 300C being driven by West and Buckley. His cars had cut the mercenaries off and had surrounded them. With several rifles and handguns pointed at them by agents all wearing ballistic armour the two men had thrown down their weapons and cooperated with commands. It had been a simple case of survival from their perspective, two handguns and no armour against the prepared FBI agents.

"You know, this is not the first time that I wish you'd stayed with baseball." Alan commented as he stood to clear away their plates.

"I know, Pop." Don allowed. "Probably not the last time either."

"Humpf."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't." Robin leant over and slid her arm around Don's waist. She looked deeply into his face. "But I can understand why he'd wish that."

"Hey, it always works out in the end."

"Just remember I've seen the bruises."

Unable to prevent the blush Don saw the knowing glances from everyone around the table. Last night had been a touch painful, but he wasn't going to complain. He was saved from having to make any comment by the bowl of ice-cream placed in front of him by his father. Picking up his spoon he dug in.

"So, after they got Scott Nelson released and had taken Don with them, why'd they go to the motel? Why not leave town?" Alan asked as he took his seat.

"They had made arrangements with a charter boat operator to take them to Mexico by sea."

"Ramirez." Don remembered the name. "From what West and Buckley said, back in the room, he has some sort of connection with Turner."

"Yeah, but we can't prove it and he's not saying much. He's not ex-military, more like some private sub-contractor." David confirmed. He turned back to Alan to finish answering his question. "They had to hole up until they could go to the boat. The charter fishing fleet normally leaves port at about 4am, they were going to head out then amongst the other boats. The clothes they'd brought for Scott Nelson was a fishing outfit. There were even some rods in the bathroom at the motel room."

"And my son? They were going to take him to Mexico?"

"No." David said. That was all the answer he would give.

"No?" Again the eyes narrowed as the older man looked at each agent in turn before settling on his eldest. Don stared back, clearly not going to elaborate or allow any of his team to elaborate. That was more than answer enough. Alan looked down, digging into his own bowl. "I don't think I want to know."

There was an awkward silence broken only by the clink of spoons on china.

Don suddenly looked over at David. "So you did everything right and you did everything I could have wanted, except for one thing."

"Huh?"

Movement stilled as everyone looked to see what the senior agent was on about.

"You couldn't stop a lousy fountain?" His tone, unlike that a moment ago, was light. Everyone started breathing again.

"C'mon Don, you know I had other things on my mind." David's reply was just as light hearted as Don's accusation but he had actually tried. Somehow he'd managed to squeeze in a moment to get through to the right person in the right department only to find out the stopcocks were in the square next to the fountain itself. The alternative was to shut down the main. David had told the man to go ahead and do it to be then informed that the same main serviced several other blocks and did he really want umpteen thousand people to go thirsty on the hottest spring day on record?

His boss grinned. He pointed at each in turn around the table. "Yeah, sure. Colby woulda done it. Or Nikki, or Liz, or Charlie. Hell, even Robin would have found a way." The others backed him up with mock glares.

David's hands came up at the looks being sent his way. Don's complaint had successfully lightened the mood, having already told his boss about his attempt to shut the fountain down he knew what his boss had been trying to do. "Hey, man. You just remember who arranged everything to get you back safe."

"Oh? So you arranged everything? Hmn?"

"Ah, maybe not quite everything." David back pedalled, Don's arched eyebrow carried all levels of meaning.

"That's what I thought." Don raised his beer. "Here's to a job well done. Good work everyone."

There was a chorus of 'boss' as beer bottles and glasses of wine were raised to support the toast.

"And here's for having my son back safe and well."

A more sober toast. David spoke for everyone. "You're welcome, Alan. Anytime."

"I hope not." Alan returned surprising lightly with a twinkle in his eye.

Realising that what David had said could be construed as an implication that this could happen again, laughter broke out at Alan's snappy reply.

Don eased back in his seat, careful of his still tender back. He listened contentedly as light hearted banter broke out around the table. All was truly as it should be. Robin's arm once again found its way around his waist and he looked down to see her smile.

"There won't be a next time." Robin said softly for his ears alone.

"No sweetie." He promised.

Her face tightened slightly at the slight undertone in his voice that meant he really couldn't guarantee keeping the promise. She saw that he knew what she was thinking and gave her a slight smile in reply, there really wasn't anything he could say. She pulled her smile back together to show that she understood. "Just do your best."

"Always."

Her arm tightened slightly and her head settled against his shoulder as she made herself comfortable.

Don relaxed. They were good. Everything was good.

END

_**A/N:**__ And there we end it, wrapping up what happened after 'Flight' by resolving the open issue of Brad and Jack being on the run. I think there are some new open ends, who knows where they may lead?_

_Once again, I very much appreciate all your reviews and comments. Before finding this site I never finished any of my early fics, you guys are the reason I'm now able to complete what I start. Thank-you._


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